


The Fall

by nachokage



Series: The Fall [1]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Bandle City, Bilgewater - Freeform, Canon Relationship, Canonical Character Death, Dark, Darkins, Demacia, DemaciaVsNoxus, F/F, F/M, Gen, Kumungu Jungles, Major Original Character(s), Meeps, Minor Original Character(s), Minor non-Canon variations, No Institute of War, Non-Canon Relationship, Noxus, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other, POV Canonical Character, POV Original Character, Runeterra, The Black Mist, The Lantern, The Void, The caretaker - Freeform, Valoran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-18 04:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 32,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9367271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachokage/pseuds/nachokage
Summary: This is a Fan Fiction based on the League of Legends universe (not completely canon, but close).The plot is centered around Runeterra's death; the land, corrupted, is being killed by the will of men. Anger, revenge, fear and despair lead humanity to an endless battle against magic itself. Only a few will realize what is really happening, creating bonds between characters that would have been impossible otherwise.





	1. Prologue: Dr. Veles Kozim's Log

**Prologue: Dr. Veles Kozim's Log**

 

Extract from Dr. Veles A. Kozim's daily log:

 

1342 years after the End of the Royal Dinasty, 2nd day of the 1st lunar cycle:

Some peasants have brought me a strange man tonight. I can't really describe it without feeling foolish; it all seems so fantastic, as if it had been taken right away from one of those old mythology books. A man whose never-ending white beard reaches his own feet, a godlike being that floats instead of walking, with long hair that sometimes covers his whole face, as if mocking the laws of physics, defying gravity just like the man itself does. He wears an old linen robe, with a harness attached to it that holds a giant clock to his back.  
I am unable to communicate with him; whatever he speaks, it's not from these days. I might be able to decipher his words, but first I need to dust off my old history books and take a look at the archive.

 

1342 years after the End of the Royal Dinasty, 4th day of the 1st lunar cycle:

After long nights of work and some short conversation tests with the subject, I have given up in trying to communicate with him. His language is unknown to me, I have only been able to recognize some city names; that suggests that his origin is here, in Runeterra. He mentioned Piltover, Shurima and, as funny as it may seem, Bandle city. Fairy tales talk about a city inhabited by the so-called yordles, some primitive living beings that are supposed to have developed both music and technology cooperating with humankind.  
Note: A curious detail is that the subject is starting to recognize me. In short, he calls me Velkoz.

 

1342 years after the End of the Royal Dinasty, 8th day of the first lunar cycle:

Today is a big day: this man will be my discovery, history books will be rewritten when I publish my notes. Tired of hearing him call me Velkoz, I got to look for the name at my database. Some archives mention an enormous wandering eye known as Vel'Koz whose thirst for knowledge brought him to Runeterra. Sadly, I can't find more: all the books referring those days are unreadable, and strangely the hex-archives are corrupted.  
At least now I know of what he might be talking about. I'll be studying the old languages, in a few days I'll be able to understand his never-ending speech.

 

1342 years after the End of the Royal Dinasty, 16th day of the first lunar cycle:

I developed a machine able to translate his words instantly; it was difficult for it to capture his voice and translate it on the fly, mainly because of that strange accent of his, but that was a small problem that was fastly solved. After the needed calibration, everything went as it should. A lot of information has been collected and compared with the archives, even though I haven't been able to maintain a proper conversation with him. Now, where should I start?  
His name is Zilean. Having an unknown origin (at least for me), I can confirm he lived here, in Urtistan, during the war periods of the 113th and 114th century before the End of the Royal Dinasty. He was in charge of the clock tower, the only building that still remains from those days.  
But there's more; this man is supposed to be an old magician. I must further my investigations, since making this information public would bring back the endless debate between historians regard the existence or not of magic in Runeterra. I can't shed light onto this mystery without more proof.

 

1342 years after the End of the Royal Dinasty, 24th day of the first lunar cycle:

Not sure if it's because of the full moon or not, but I've been able to talk with Zilean as a normal person would; he understands our language and is able of talking it fluently. After some short psychological tests he agreed to take, I have not been able to reach any conclusive results. I have asked him to stay here with me, offering him a bed, whatever he needed to eat and my huge library; instead of answering, he just laughed at me. It took me a long while to get him back into our conversation, but when he did he talked me about his disease, chrono-displasia.  
To sum up, I was standing beside the only known immortal man on earth; no need to eat or sleep. But the problem is that chrono-displasia is not immortality, but eternal life instead. Let me explain the difference between those two concepts; for getting into it we'll have to first settle some basics; it's easy to compare life and a piece of rope; a linear entity, a beginning and an end, with some knots around and it can be cut somewhere in between so that it ends before.  
An immortal man is quite similar; the main difference is the lack of end. The rope has a start, but no matter how much you pull you'll never get the end of it in your hands. As immortality hasn't been studied because of an obvious lack of test subjects, we can't confirm if there's a way of "cutting" the rope for giving it an earlier end.  
Now we get to the icing on the cake; eternal life. Explaining something we can't conceive is not easy, but I will try my best; the eternal can't be conceived like a rope; it exists always. It has no start and it never ends, because time is for them something they can roam around. There's not a rope, but an infinite set of them, each with its own knots. Cutting one would make no sense, since the eternal being is also living the other infinite lives at the same time.  
Chrono-displasia could be explained as an uncontrollable eternity; having the chance of living every single moment, they can't choose which to live; the being can physically be at 2, 10 or a million lives (or instances of a same life) at the same time while only processing one. That means that, while he's talking to me, he's also talking in an infinite amount of parallel existences even if I'm not there.  
There's so much to learn from him.

 

1342 years after the End of the Royal Dinasty, 3rd day of the second lunar cycle:

Zilean's screams woke me up. I haven't been able to sleep; he keeps on talking, he won't stop no matter what I do. He talks about a lot of things. He's been cursing at someone called LeBlanc, yelling at her, bringing her to book; he talks about something that shouldn't have been done, that bringing the prince back to life was foolishness. He's talked about the Royal Dinasty, about how it all came to an end. "Immortality is a punishment, not a tool, my dear sister of condition." is all he says now. He repeats it endlessly.  
Before falling into that state of ecstasy, he talked about Noxian politics, the Demacian decadency, Bandle City's sudden disappearance, the Ionian genocide and the Shadow Isles burning during the last time the Black Mist was seen. He said that the shard of the monolith was back home, that Shurima's rise and fall was already written. The Freljord shall burn on the icy hearts they were asking for.  
I have to check all these data and more. I have it all recorded. The truth shall be unveiled.

 

1342 years after the End of the Royal Dinasty, 5th day of the fourth lunar cycle:

Zilean stopped talking. He just stares at me now, saying nothing. My questions receive no answer. I need him to explain what he was talking about cycles ago.

 

1342 years after the End of the Royal Dinasty, 6th day of the second lunar cycle:

No news from Zilean. He's still there, absently sitting in the bed I laid him upon when he started screaming. I definitely need help. I don't know how the Institute of Wisdom will take my words. Just in case I don't come back I have programmed the release of these notes; the world shall be given the truth, no matter they want it or not.

End of the extract.

Dr. Veles Aristmosis Kozim planned on making this, his archive and the recent records public.  
Everything has already been solved and no information has been leaked.  
Zilean has been confined to the deepest cell in Zaun's Mental Institute.  
Dr. Veles A. Kozim has been 'accidentally' executed.  
The truth won't reach the daylight while I live, no need to worry about that.

 

Yours faithfully,  
LeBlanc


	2. And all Things will end

The king entered the throne room alone. No one knew how he had done to go unnoticed through the castle, but there he was, with his golden crown and armor soaked in blood and a dead smile shining bright under his eyes. "This is not my king." thought Garen. A long silence filled the room, and not a soul dared breathe during those seconds that felt like years.

-Xin Zhao is not coming back soon.- selflessly announced Jarvan IV, king of Demacia, last and only living member of the royal line.- No warrior of my escort will be back, as far as I know.

His voice sounded like that of a dead man; not the ones who are already under the grave, but those who while living have no motivation to do so. Jarvan had changed a lot since his battle face to face with Swain years ago; a special squad, filled with the best soldiers of Demacia and led by Garen saved him from a certain death at the hands of Urgot after he fell into the raven's claws. The man that came back from that journey was not the same that had left. But now it was different.

His were not the moves of a man. A dusty mean look that seemed to ignore everything in front of it crossed the hall. "Is it grief?" doubted his lady wife. While the king stumbled through the room on his way to the throne, the crowd kept off his way; not because of respect but fear instead. Jarvan dropped himself on the throne and closed his eyes. This was not the man their friends and sons had died for. This was not even a man.

-Everyone leave the room now. - announced the king after another long and awkward silence. Seeing that people hesitated to follow his order, he talked again. -Your king commands it. I want you all to leave.

One by one, everyone left the room through the main gate. While walking away, Garen noticed a little bit of humanity in Jarvan's eyes. His old friend, now a king. "One ashamed of what he's going to do." heard the old might of Demacia into his head. Unable to turn back and face his former prince, Garen walked away, vanishing within the crowd. Not even the queen stood there; the king told her to leave and stay in her chambers until she had news from him.

Once they were all out, they heard the locks. The last member of the royal family had closed himself alone in the throne room. Again.

 

...

 

 -They will notice. -said Darkwill.

-Of course they will. That is intended. -answered the shadow with a voice that lost itself into silence.

-Didn't you want it to go this way? -It's too soon.

-You released the prince. Deal with the consequences. -spoke the voice.

-The sorcery didn't go the way you told me, LeBlanc. -shouted Darkwill, alone in the shadows of the Noxian catacombs.

-Don't you remember how Sion worked out? What did you expect Elliot? -talked LeBlanc in a mocking way.

-Elliot died with Senna, Leblanc. Fix this now, I wouldn't like to make you pay for your lies. And don't dare call me that name again.

But there was no one around to listen to those words. "Why had she talked about that?" thought Darkwill to himself. It had been more than decades since anyone called him Elliot. And that person was already dead. As the only remaining male of his species, falling in love with Senna had condemned his existence. The end of our times. For centuries I laughed at LeBlanc, mocking her about how after one of those magic tricks she would end up falling in love with a human. But the first to link the existence of his body to another one was him. Darkwill and Elliot became one, and it all happened because of Senna. "But ours was an impossible relationship." he recalled.

Elliot was a Noxian spy at that time, a man of the shadows, and a slave to politics. In contrast, Senna was a merciless Demacian warrior that brought down every single remain of the Shadow Isles that reached Runeterra; she was a roaming soul that needed no guidance. No matter what was the shadows' victim's banner, she and Lucian would always be there to help. "Noxian or not, you're a good person. If you need help, I'll be there." had been the words that trapped him into that fragile human body.

But then came the marriage; even though he had not been invited, he was present during the ceremony. Lucian and Senna were tied together now, both as warriors and souls. Elliot's soul was left to rot, and what was left of Darkwill took control of him.

He would have loved to be able to completely forget Elliot's existence, but his feelings and memories grew stronger with time. Especially since Senna's death. And now he didn't know if he was one or the other.

A sighing took him out of his thoughts; then he remembered what he and LeBlanc had done with the Demacian king's escort. Fourteen days had passed since they were captured, fourteen of them had been gloriously executed.

-You will be part of the show tomorrow, Xin Zhao. -talked Darkwill to what looked like an empty cell. -Enjoy your last hours of life.

The starving man was unable to answer. He had no will to move. Darkness had choked what was left of the warrior inside him. His pride, his life, his king; they were all lost. They had all succumbed to the will of the dark.


	3. Elvesham

LeBlanc was still laughing when she arrived to her chambers. She took off her boots and sat on the first chair she found near the chimney; she was tired of walking. With a slight move of her left hand, she called Bren, her personal servant.

-Where's Anyssa? - asked the deceiver. -I told you that I wanted her here as soon as I arrived. Go get her.

Without a word, Bren disappeared behind the door. It didn't take long for him to be back, now with Anyssa at his side. She had blonde curly hair, a pair of blue eyes that resembled the deep blue sea of the Shadow Isles and a perfect smile for lying. The girl was a twenty year-old orphan that LeBlanc had adopted during those days when she needed more eyes than she had. It was strange for a normal spy kid to stay loyal for so long, but Anyssa's case was a different one; she had always been her favourite, and she had received the well-deserved payments.

-Hello, sweetling. How are you? -LeBlanc greeted her. -Come and sit here by my side, I’ve been waiting so long for our meeting.

-Everything's fine madame. -answered politely the young girl, turning her head down before seating at her side.

LeBlanc knew that she longed to know why she had been called in such a fashion, but the girl had been taught well during her childhood. Not everyone could ask questions without permission. While the girl looked at the fire, LeBlanc prepared the long-awaited drinks. Silence filled the room until she handled the potion to Anyssa.

-Here you have my dear, as a prize for your work. -said LeBlanc while handling her what would mean her salvation. -I must have been tiring, especially to someone as calm as you; Piltover's city life is too noisy for the likes of us. Drink and rest now, you shall have everything you want.

-Thanks madame, but I don't deserve no appreciation, I just did what had to be done. -lied the girl with a bright smile.

-I am the one who decides what's to be appreciated or not, Anyssa. -stated the last living member of the Black Rose. -We shall share a drink.

Unable to refuse her master's invitation, Anyssa emptied the cup in her throat at the very same time than LeBlanc did. The deceiver could notice in the girl's face that she had not liked the drink, but she didn't care now. The job had been done. Now she only needed to sleep and everything would be over.  
She told Anyssa to go to her room; after such a tiring work she had gained the right to use LeBlanc's chambers for a night, and as she had a lot of work to do.  
Once she ensured that Anyssa was sleeping, LeBlanc ordered Bren to take care of the girl until she was back. Then the deceiver headed back to the catacombs; it was time to pay a visit to Thresh.  
It had not been easy to imprison the chain warden; a lot of men died fighting him, and LeBlanc had taken down the remaining servants that knew about his presence in the Noxian catacombs. But he was the key to his plan; she needed his passages, the lanterns that could take her wherever she wanted if well prepared.  
Vanishing in the shadows, it didn't take long for her to arrive to the cell. The chain warden was fast asleep, his eyes glowing in the dark and his chains moving slightly, as if they were alive. She waited long for the potion to affect her, but once she started feeling asleep, she entered the cell.  
A storm of souls came out of Thresh's open mouth: she could barely feel the pain because of how asleep she felt. Her skin was burning, but she didn't care. Her legs, her arms, her chest; she was unable to feel. No pain, no screams, no lights. She couldn't even distinguish her own hands in the dark. After a short while, she woke up in her bed. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep again; it felt like no more than a nightmare.


	4. The Glorious Executioner

Three days and three nights passed away, but the king would not open the doors There was no response from the other side; everyone in court but the queen had tried to get in, yet no one's words had been answered.

It took a quarter of a moon cycle to reach an agreement with the guard; they would force the door to check that the king was alright. There was no food in the throne room, and the servants were sure that they had not brought anything into it. When they opened the door, the stink sent most people away from it.

The king's armor was still on the throne, it's gauntlet holding the lance he had used in countless battles. On the floor laid the Demacian standard he used to proudly carry, covered with the very same blood it had when the king arrived, still fresh. But there was no trace of Jarvan's body. Garen was trying to understand what had happened when a guard's shout dragged his attention.

 

-The king is dead!- desperately screamed the man.- A Noxian sorcery has killed our heirless king!

 

...

 

It was impossible to look better, he just couldn't. He had heard some people say that perfection can be considered bad at some circumstances. Even though he knew they were all wrong, he couldn't blame them; how the hell would they know what being perfect fell like if they were not?

He was the ideal man, the role model, the standard pattern followed by beauty itself. His long moustache waving while he walked, spinning axes in hand and ready to work. The arena called for him; he was the protagonist, he was the man everyone wanted, the man every single person wished to be; he was Draven.

The crowd cheered him once he got into the yard. The first set of prisoners  were those charged with small crimes; burglars or people that were just being obnoxious when they shouldn't; that meant that they were free to run to the entrance once the glorious executioner entered the arena, earning the right to leave and live that way. There is no point in asking if any of them survived; the glorious executioner handled them all quickly, thirsting for the price he had been promised.

He, the magnificent, the only one, the invaluable, would be the one to walk around the arena holding Xin Zhao's head with his bare hands.

 

...

 

Something woke him up. Something unexpected. He had lost the count of days and nights after the third one. The nightmare that Xin Zhao was living (¿was he really alive?) could not be compared to anything else; the days of the arena looked sweet compared to the hell he was going through.

His cell was dark as it could be, completely black, filled with a silence that wasn't even interrupted by rats. He knew he was bleeding only because he remembered it; there was no pain to feel, and he was unable to sense any hint of odor at all.

He had been confined to the black cells of the catacombs; completely isolated, the only remain of reality he had were his memories. But Xin Zhao had never liked to remember.


	5. Unchaining the warden

LeBlanc woke up with a horrible headache that wouldn't even let her walk out of the bed; the transition from one life to another never felt good, but Anyssa was being more aggressive than most had been.

 

Once her mind and memories got used to the new life, she started to dress up slowly, admiring what had once been Anyssa's body. Young curves, firm breasts, long blonde curly hair, a beautiful smile and a perfect set of charming blue eyes; she had definitely made the right choice.

 

After getting back into her mind and dressing up, LeBlanc went straight to the catacombs; she needed to leave Noxus before Darkwill noticed what she had done, and Thresh was her only escape. After so many years, the moment had arrived; the Chain Warden would finally break free and she would be able to start a new life at Piltover. Anyssa had prepared everything in the city of progress, and she would have plenty of time to get everything going. ¿How many souls would Thresh take before leaving Noxus? She would definitely hear about it, but she would do it from the safety of the house that waited her on Piltover.

 

After a fast paced walk through the Noxian catacombs and the several cells it contained, prisoners being more dangerous step after step, she finally got to the Chain Warden. He was laughing hard, but there was nothing to worry; she was the only one that knew how to get through the frozen doors of the end of the corridor; she was the only one that had a soul cold enough to survive such a hostile place.

 

-¡LeBlanc! ¡Oh, LeBlanc, you murderer! ¡Hahahahaha!-shouted the chain warden.-¡You really got me there! ¡I had never seen a trick like that! ¡Hahahahaha!

-There are a lot of things you have not seen yet, Thresh...-whispered LeBlanc to herself. His laugh was disgusting, and it echoed through the cold rooms that made up the monster's cell.-You laugh like a madman, did you know that?-said LeBlanc, hoping that he would stop: she was wrong.

-¡Hahahaha!-laughed the chain warden again. -Mad? Me? Haha... quite likely. But that doesn't make that trick of yours less curious.

-It is not a trick; you already know what I am.

-If it's tricky, it's a trick, no matter what you say. -he grabbed the lantern and shook it a bit, for later pointing out a corpse that laid on the floor. -Here she is and there you are,  _Ziraeth_. Truth be told, I did not expect you to do it this way, I never really expect to see an  _elvesham_  with my own eyes. I have no strength to fight you, I really struggled to make her suffer. Well, you... hahaha. You know what I mean. Would you like to greet her?. -said Thresh before starting to laugh even louder than before.

-You know what I came for, warden. Do your job and you shall have your freedom. -announced LeBlanc with a firm voice that got to stop Thresh's frantic laugh.

-You mean that if I get you there I'll get to fool around your beloved Noxus? 

 

...

 

His life had suffered a radical change.

 

The hero he once had been was a thing of the past, nothing but history now. The Zaun incident had changed the life of Piltover as a whole; lacking an actual enemy, they finally got to leave peacefully. Still, the mere thought of what had happened was enough to darken the citizen's hearts. It was difficult to find someone around Piltover who hadn't lost a friend, a brother or a son at war, and he was the one to blame.

 

He felt guilty, yet people only praised him as the hero they thought he was: the man that had brought peace to them shined bright enough to leave the shadow of the war behind; most people blamed themselves for being slow, for being weak, or just for not being there to hear the last words of someone they had loved. But he knew who was the only one to blame. And he would pay for it, one-handed or not.

 

Refusing to become what he had once fought, Jayce always carried the burden of what he had done; a horrible stump occupied the place where his right hand used to be. Unable to fight crippled, he donated the Mercury Hammer to Piltover's Techmaturgy Museum and started his political carrier.

That is how he became Piltover's mayor. Fearing the future more than ever, Jayce started his new adventure by sitting on his chair. What was about to come? No one could tell.


	6. Ziraeth's Mistake

But Xin Zhao was given no time to remember at all.

-Wake up you filthy Demacian! -shouted a Noxian guard.- Your beloved arena awaits you, aren't you happy about that?

-The crowd sure is Malcolm! -said the guard that accompanied the one that had talked first, smiling exaggeratedly.

-Malcolm... -muttered Xin Zhao.

-Shut up you scum!¡And you'd better keep your mouth shut if you want to keep that white smile of yours, private! -said Malcolm, clearly angry at his subordinate; he was afraid of Xin Zhao knowing his name.- Take him up fool, the executioner is waiting.

-Don't you miss those days when Urgot was the one meant to chop heads down Malcolm? -asked the young private.

The talking Noxian had no time to react; Malcolm's left fist hit him right into his mouth, breaking his teeth and soaking the whole cell in blood. The general didn't need to say anything more after that. With no more hesitation, the young private, now without a smile and constantly spitting blood, walked towards Xin Zhao.

-You are coming... -attempted to talk the bleeding guard before collapsing on his own feet.

-Get up and take him to the arena if you don't want to die with him Nellescar! -commanded General Malcolm.

-Yes m'... Yes General Malcolm. -nervously answered Nellescar while turning towards Xin Zhao.- You are coming with me.

The young private was strong; loading Xin Zhao's weight on a shoulder, the Noxian helped the seneschal of Demacia on his feet. Once they were sure that Xin Zhao could walk on his own, the Noxian guards guided him through the catacombs.

And now he remembered; he knew the way pretty well. He had fiercely fought in the arena for years. " _That wasn't me..."_  thought Xin Zhao. That had been his former self; he had been strong, fierce, a man known and feared. But not a single trace of that legendary fighter remained on his soul; no matter what happened up in the arena, Xin Zhao was already dead.

 

...

 

-What I mean is that if you do what you're told you'll get out of this cell. -answered LeBlanc.- What you do once you are out of here is none of my concern.

-Seems that we have a good deal here... -whispered the chain warden, his voice echoing through the cell.- You shall have what you want,  _Ziraeth_ , I'll make sure of it! Hahaha!

-Then stop laughing and start working. You know what I came for, the faster you do what I need you to, the earlier you'll get to do as you please.

He knew what LeBlanc wanted. There was no reason to fool around with her; the last Ziraeth was nothing to laugh at. Nonetheless, Thresh found that there was no need for more words. He had always been able to escape his cell, but his curiosity always held him back from doing it; his imprisonment had given him the chance to study both LeBlanc and Darkwill. Now that it was all over, he had to find a new entertainment; Noxus should suffice.

Without a word, Thresh opened the portal and LeBlanc silently went through it.  _"The fastest way to Piltover..."_ thought the chain warden. " _Her one way ticket to hell, such a pitiful existence."_


	7. The Glorious Execution

A bright light was shining down the corridor; they were arriving. Malcolm could hear the crowd cheer the executioner; those kind of behaviours had always made him sick. That senseless violence that distinguished the Noxian arena from the rest, the audience's extreme sadism and the stink of death that reminded him of the battlefield. ' _But no battles were fought in the arena...'_  thought Malcolm,  _'It's all about the bloodshed, no reason to back it up.'_.

Suddenly, a big man's silhouette appeared in the tunnel's entry. When their paths crossed, he noticed that Darius was as nervous as Malcolm had never seen him. He stopped a second, and so did Darius.

-I want you to come to the catacomb's cells right after leaving Xin Zhao at the arena, Malcolm. -commanded the Hand of Noxus. -No delay will be tolerated, I'll meet you down there.

-So it will be. -answered General Malcolm.

With Nellestar silently complaining about his situation, both Darius and Malcolm followed their ways. With every step the heat of the arena and the smell of rotting flesh became stronger, ' _Only beasts would not reject such a monstrous show.'_ thought the General.

A few seconds later, Malcolm and Nellestar were walking back to the catacomb's cells. He had never been fond of the Noxian love for bleeding flesh, and he would avoid it as much as he could.

-Swift, Nellestar! -commanded Malcolm.-Darius is waiting in the catacombs, walk faster if you want to keep your remaining teeth!

 

...

 

He woke up when his head hit the floor. There he was; the place that had made him become what he had once been would be the one to kill him. He could hear the crowd cheer at the beginning. They were all having fun, just like he remembered. Noxians loved every drop of blood that was shed without a reason. He just couldn't understand why he wasn't dead yet. But then he heard that annoying voice.

-Here you have it! -shouted the executioner.-The fiercest warrior ever known, a soldier from head to toe, once a hero and the most loyal guard you might have ever seen. -he smiled looking at Xin Zhao.-But this thing I see here is not what they promised us!

The kick caught him by surprise. Then his nose started bleeding and his whole world became red.

-Are you the man they told me to kill? -shouted Draven while spinning an axe on his right hand.- I'm not in charge of killing animals. Sheep, cows, bulls or pigs; there is no place for filth like you here, whatever you are.

Another kick turned him and left him facing the sun. He was no animal. He was nothing to be laughed at. He was Xin Zhao, the Seneschal of Demacia, the steward of the last member of the Lightshield Dinasty. He was the Viscero.

He was going to get up and stop that nonsense by beating that shitty executor that Noxians adored, but then a boot smashed the left side of his face. An axe landed right before his eyes, which were now facing the ground. That brought him back to reality. That reminded him what he was. ' _Nothing but history._ ' thought the last remain of the Viscero.

 

...

 

A chilling cold got into his bones while he went deeper and deeper into the catacombs. Empty cells surrounded him; that was the Arena's famine caused by the lack of war. Darius was curious about how would the upcoming events unfold; he didn't really know what had happened in that room, but after Darkwill's sorcery, the Demacian king didn't look the same. Even LeBlanc was clearly afraid of what had been done, and that was proof enough that it was serious business.

No matter what the future might bring, he would be the one to carry Noxus to victory. The Fleshing needed new blood, his brother wanted new toys and the young warriors were looking forward to show their skills on the battlefield.

A sheer cold stopped his thinking. The  _cling-clang_  of chains echoed through the corridors. He kept on walking, step by step, always slower than before, until he traced a glow that lightly illuminated a passageway. He covered the distance in three big steps, and only then he wished he had never gone down the catacombs.

Thresh was bigger than he remembered; his undead eyes glowed in the dark, and a spectral aura surrounded his whole body. He could hear him laugh, but he knew he didn't have to listen. He didn't have to think. He didn't have to feel. In a situation like this, a leader must act.

He could hear the  _cling-clang_  of the chains. He could hear the madman's laugh. But the only thing he felt was the blood rushing through his veins. This was what he had been born for; fighting enemies feared by most. The chains swirled through the room, souls blocked every hit of his that might have reached the chain warden. He didn't think he could win a fight like this; luckily, his thoughts were not part of him now. He was no more than a living weapon; aim, hit, aim, hit. Let the armor block whatever that might reach me.

But that situation didn't last long. He saw a chain fly overhead; blood reached his back, and then he heard a scream. When he turned he saw Malcolm and the soldier he was in charge of in the middle of the corridor; Nellestar was the one screaming. He was crying and bleeding, his dry blood being mixed with the recent one that a chain locked in his chest was bringing out.

They had to stop him here. Malcolm and Darius were the ones that should lock Thresh in the catacombs, even at the cost of their lives. They couldn't let that monster reach the surface again. The chaos that a creature of such a nature could cause was beyond their imagination. They were the ones that bore such a charge.

But no words came out of Darius' mouth. The last thing he saw was Thresh knocking him down while flying towards Nellestar; it all became dark afterwards.

 

…

 

Malcolm knew that sound; Thresh's laugh was not something anyone could easily forget. But he was given no time to react. Darius was on the floor, and Thresh's sickle was stuck at Nellestar's chest. That was his death sentence. ' _I'm sorry, Nellestar....'_ ' thought the General.

Without a doubt, Malcolm dashed away from his pupil, pushing him down to the ground. Without looking back, he ran towards Darius, who was laying in the ground. Was he dead? He didn't think so; the Hand of Noxus couldn't be taken down so easily. He could hear Thresh whisper at his back, but Malcolm didn't want to turn. If he had to die now, he would; his cowardice deserved such a punishment. Trying to wake Darius up and bandaging a wound in his front, he waited for his death to arrive, but it looked like the gods had thought of another fate for him.

Why would the Chain Warden leave them alive? Two of the strongest men of Noxus could have fallen at his hands, but he had completely ignored them. He would have called that mercy if he wasn't talking about Thresh. Something had drawn the attention of the chain warden.

Darius' coughs stopped his thinking.

-¡What has happened! -shouted the Hand of Noxus while getting on his feet.-¡¿Where did that monster go?!

-He left, Nellestar died and you fainted instantly. -answered Malcolm. -I have no idea of where he went. I came to take care of your wounds.

-¡You have let it free! -screamed Darius while running through the path marked by Nellestar's blood. -¡You'll die if I see you again, traitor! ¡You'd better run!

Malcolm did not answer. He didn't know what to do next.

 

...

That was it.

He could feel it; a life without a soul. A man who was alive and dead at the same time. Such a curious thing could not be overlooked.

Every step brought him closer to his objective. With every  _cling_  of the chains he felt hundreds of weak souls grouped.  _'This is the arena...'_ thought Thresh. He could feel death's scent in the air, he could even talk to it.

-It's been so long since we last met... hahahaha... -he took a deep breath while walking.- I missed this.

He could hear the crowd. He could hear the executioner.  _'But there is no word of my soulless man...'_  thought the warden.

When he entered the arena everyone fell silent. Even the executioner, who was well known for never shutting up, was quiet. But there was no calm in the arena. The silence that had suddenly invaded the Noxians was caused by fear.

-Step out of my toy. -calmly said the chain warden looking at Draven's eyes. -Please.

-¡¿What are you doing he...

Draven didn't get to finish the sentence. Thresh's sickle went through his throat. His lantern moved on its own, floating for a while; seconds later, both Draven and the Lantern hit the ground. A minute later, the arena was no more than a bunch of corpses laying in a dead cold graveyard.

 

...

 

He was late. He had failed his nation. The silence of the arena stuck in his ears, even his heart stopped for a while. Men, women and children alike, they were all dead. Now they were no more than bunches of corpses. Open mouths, scared eyes... That was the work of the madman.

Then he thought about his brother. He ran to the center of the arena, Draven's favourite place for taking down prisoners. When he found his brother, he wished he had not. His disfigured face was still helplessly calling for help. His throat, torn to pieces, did not look like the one his brother had used countless times to laugh at his victims.

And it was his entire fault. His and Malcolm's.


	8. Crows for the dead

It was a strange feeling.

He didn't really have any memory of his life before his brother's arrival. When Draven was born Darius thought of him as a pet; something loyal that would never leave him, helping each other constantly, always being there when needed. But time had taught him that a brother was more than that.

His brother had been a hug when he needed it, a smile that had made him feel better countless times. He had also been what had tied him to reality when being into the fray turned him into the monster he now was. He couldn't remember a day without his brother. The ones before his death had always been shared, even if he just crossed him on his way to the arena. Draven's smile was always strange; he didn't express happiness, but love for himself. When they were young they have talked a lot about that. "What's love for you, brother?" had asked Draven a long time ago, when they were no more than teenagers working hard to earn a spot in the army. "Love is what you feel when you are with someone that can make you smile no matter how hard the situation is. At least that's how I think of it, even though I'm not sure if I have ever felt it." Darius answered back then. "Then I have certainly fallen in love, brother." answered Draven with a big smile on his face.

It had taken him long to understand him, but one day at the arena, watching his brother Draven tear down a man from the distance by using those spinning axes of his, he caught a glimpse of what he had meant back then. While tearing corpses down, Draven was alone in the arena, at least to the eyes of the thousands of spectators that filled it up every week. But Darius knew the truth; his little brother was never alone, he was always with that person he had always loved. The only one always able to make him wear a smile no matter how hard the situation was; Draven himself.

Later that day, Darius met up Draven and asked him about it; he was curious about that. When he asked his brother about it, he didn't answer at all. He just walked out of the restaurant they had met at, alone, with a smile on his face. And that's how he made sure of it. His brother loved no more than himself; as narcissistic as a man could be, his brother would always live his life with what he considered the best company a man could have.

That kind of insanity was what brought him back to a normal life once a battle was over. No slaughters, no killing, no skinning. No heads waiting to be smashed, no Ionians to be tortured to death, no Demacians being cut a piece a week that would be sent to their homeland as a reminder of what was about to come. It was just him, his brother and their smiles. "Malcolm's execution would be way easier to handle if he was here..." whispered Darius for himself. Always overshadowed by him, Malcolm was a good man; he just hadn't been good enough to save his brother. He wished he could have protected Draven from the Chain Warden, to avoid reaching this situation. But someone had to pay for what had been done, and the one to be punished would be that Noxian general.

 

The only danger Darius was facing now was his own madness, and nothing could save him from it.

 

...

 

The crowd didn't even dare to look at his eyes; they were silent. Some of them hated him for not being able to protect the people that had died in the arena, but they didn't dare speak a word. Malcolm had been a hero of war, one of the few to come back from the last war with a Demacian head, and it was not any common head; the Lady of Luminosity had died at the hands of that man. That was why they were so nervous yet so quiet. Fear or respect, the fact that Malcolm was not a common prisoner changed how things were.

By contrast, several crows haunted the place, their squawks following the rhythm of Malcolm's footsteps. He could feel their black eyes digging deep in his flesh, but somehow he knew they saw no feast in his corpse. Why were they there then? Malcolm was certain that he wouldn't live long enough to know the answer to that question. The new executioner was eager to get his hands on Malcolm's head.

The death of Urgot in the last war had left them with little to no people wanting to become the Noxian headsman of reference; that was only until Draven got into the scene. He loved his job, he did it effectively and he committed to it with a love that no Noxian had ever felt. But the incident at the arena had forced Noxus to look for another executioner. With no permanent headsman taking the job, Darius had taken it temporarily.

When he was forced down and told to lay his head on the steel bar, Malcolm looked up a last time to see Darius' face. To his surprise, Darius was crying. "Someone had to pay for this, and you are the only one to blame for such a loss Malcolm." whispered the Hand of Noxus. He raised his axe unhesitatingly and ordered him to face the steel bar. As cold and clean as it was, Malcolm could only feel a fiery fire burning inside him. It was all over.


	9. The cleanse begins

-You will start to work after the arrest squad fails. -pointed out Garen.- Your job will be to hunt down and bring back to Demacia those people that have proven themselves to have parted ways with their humanity in favour of power. Dead or alive, I'll have enough with their heads.

-Why should the arrest squad fail? -arrogantly asked Lucian.

-You have worked with the likes of them, Lucian.-answered Garen, clearly annoyed by the Purifier's behaviour. -The Gem Knight, the Sentinel's sorrow, the Half-Dragon... they should not be underestimated. The rebellion we're facing is serious business. This is not like hunting for silly monsters about Runeterra with your chick; remember that your...

Lucian turned and walked out of the room, closing the door silently, leaving Garen mid-talk. The new king's anger could be felt in the room, but he didn't stop.

-...enemies know you as much as you know them. -he stopped and breathed deeply while turning for facing Quinn. -You'll lead the team. Those monsters won't doubt to chop your head off, don't give them the chance to. You may leave now.

...

 

Quinn couldn't understand what was going on. King Jarvan had died, and the Noxians had been blamed for it at the very beginning. Garen was already preparing an army to march against their eternal nemesis, but something tore those plans down to pieces; a Noxian letter had arrived. It talked about traitors in their own ranks and about Swain escaping with the one in charge of single-handedly causing the death of hundreds of Noxians. As a side note it talked about Xin Zhao, the Seneschal, being kidnapped by the Chain Warden. No more details concerning the letter were made public; the only thing that the Demacian common folk knew was that Noxus was not an enemy anymore.

Officially, the army was going to march against the Shadows Isles in the search of Xin Zhao, while other scout squads were being prepared to look for Xin Zhao around Runeterra; as said by Garen, "they could not be sure what a twisted mind like Thresh's could be planning". Only a few knew the truth; their new king was lying to the masses.

As far as most people were concerned, they had to find Xin Zhao to uncover the truth of what had happened to Jarvan IV; the truth was that the Noxian-Demacian alliance wanted to change the world how they had once known it by cleaning the human race. Yordles, dragons, mages... if something made it different from the standards they had settled, it had to be erased.

Who were the monsters now?

...

 

The drink was way too cold that night. Even for a heart as frozen as his, the drink was way too cold. He looked at the bartender, who immediately took his jar and emptied it, pouring its content into the sink and diving deep into the kitchen.

That was why Yasuo had always preferred that place among the rest. He needn't talk, he needn’t listen to anything, he didn't even think. If he wanted something to drink he paid, and when he couldn't pay the bartender never complained; he knew that the man he knew as Yone would pay his debts. Yone had always paid his debts, even though he had never given in to drink.

He had never liked to use the name of his dead brother, but when he had to come up with a name that was not his, Yone always came to mind. Ten years had passed, yet ten more wouldn't have been enough for Yasuo to get free of his burden. Unable to prove his innocence, old friends were still hunting him down day and night. Bilgewater had been his personal heaven; you can't draw attention when you're surrounded by freaks even stranger than you. That had given him the chance to be reborn as Yone, the Ionian fisherman. The only one that got to fish no matter how strong the winds were those days, a hero among the common folk. Yone was the one that saved the hungry and the poor, the silent man that had saved countless lives.

Without a word, Yasuo left the bar and walked towards the docks, where home was waiting for him. He was covering himself with the blankets and coats that children from the neighborhood had gifted him when he heard a familiar voice whispering in his ear.

-It's been long since we last met, brother... -said Yasuo, before swiftly unsheathing his blade and cutting twice through the shadow's throat. -And I do not plan on sharing a drink with you soon.

The Black Mist was back. Year after year, always arriving some weeks earlier than it did the last one; always colder, always stronger. But it is not yet time to die. At least not for the unforgiven.


	10. The Prodigal Explorer

Artifacts like that one had always marveled him. Solving puzzles that for hundreds of years had remained secret was the kind of challenge that made him feel as alive as he was before the war. No one would never know how much both of them had been through; why Jayce was sitting there, in front of a desk, full of sketches and machines whose functioning wouldn't be understood by most people. was a mystery even to himself. There had been a lot of variables and coincidences that had made Jayce become what he was; where he was born, who were his parents, how he had been raised, his early work as a child guided by Professor Kozim... He as a person was no more than the result of a never-ending pile of coincidences that had luckily happened one after the other. And the same was applicable to that artifact that he was now trying to understand; why had it been created? who did it, and what was its purpose? how did it survive all this time without the need of a fix until now? why had Ezreal found it and why had he trusted him to repair his artifact? If the answer to one of those questions had been different, he might have never seen a creation like the one he was observing right now. If some detail of his life had been different, he might have never even had the chance to end up working with such a precious invention.

No matter what people said, luck was always a huge factor. He knew about a lot that would point the Gods as the ones responsible for their own success or failure; others would think that they were in full control of whatever happened in their lives, owing nothing to anyone. But he knew they were wrong. There was always a huge random factor, because for something to happen you need an infinity of other events to go in a specific way, and the possibility of one of them depending on pure luck is as never-ending as the steps needed for the main event to be possible.

But those thoughts were not going to fix it. Ezreal needed his weapon, and he needed it now. Anyssa Elestar had been very clear when pointing out that she wanted the so-called prodigal explorer to lead her team on her journey to wherever she had pointed in that map. She talked about buried history, secrets untold that were ages old and the truth about the fall of the old empires.

Usually, Ezreal would have denied the job. A little girl giving orders the very minute she came looking for him that would not accept a "No." as answer... Jayce knew that his friend had never been fond of such people. But the very moment that she mentioned Shurima his eyes started to glow, and without a word he signed the contract.

That was how Jayce was now back at the laboratory instead of working at his office. No sleeping, nearly no eating and feeling dehydrated from time to time, he preferred the restless work of the inventor than the comfortable chair that awaited him on the major's chamber. He was enjoying every single moment of this work, the last one before his laboratory was annexed to Piltover's Techmaturgy Museum. Working with the Shuriman artifact that had raised Ezreal to glory was not a bad way to end his scientific career, even though it made him sad to know that this was the last permission he would get from the council to abandon his responsibilities.

Suddenly he started to feel how a sharp pain in his stump. He pulled it away from the desk, noticing he had burnt a bit of it. That accident brought him back to the desk where he was working. 'Focus, Jayce. It's your last job here, you better do it right.' thought before getting back to work.

 

...

 

It had been a long time since he lost her, but Ezreal still felt as if everything had happened the day before. Countless heroes had lost their lives at that last battle against Noxus; they had underestimated their strength, basing their strategy solely in the numerical superiority of the Trinity army that counted with people from all around Runeterra. Year of Noxian repression had given a reason for a lot of regions to rise against them during those hard times; Demacia, Ionia and Piltover stood out as the three major components of the army, and he was part of the infiltration squad lead by Quinn.

Every night he dreamed of the day he woke up at Lux's side. It all happened the same way it had been that day. Her bright smile, one that would even be able to light the fog of war, her golden hair and her blue eyes reflecting everything he felt.

-Be careful Ez. -she said before leaving the tent- We'll meet here tonight, and I don't want you to come harmed.

-Don't worry; ours will be no more than a reconnaissance mission today. -he said before kissing her lightly.- You won't get rid of me yet.

As Lux said, they met later on the night.


	11. Farewell, my friends

-These evil creatures are the ones that killed our king! -shouted the herald.- Whoever sees or captures one of them, contact the guard immediately! You'll be rewarded!

No one stopped to listen to him, but there was no need to do so. The hatred for everything that wasn't human had extended through Demacia in the blink of an eye. Yordles, mages and other magical beings were escaping the once home of the just, looking for shelter wherever they could. But there was no easy way out of Demacia.

All gates were closed and the whole army was in charge of one of the most aggressive reconnaissance missions ever planned internally. Investigating, chasing, torturing, killing... History books would never mention this side of the story, that's for sure. But that didn't mean it was not happening.

Yordles who had found a home in the old Demacia were now being betrayed by their own friends and neighbours; few were brave enough to help them hide or escape, and even less were left unpunished after doing so. The government's lies had been nailed to the deepest place of their hearts, being an irrational fear the most common feeling in the streets. Meanwhile, Galio flew peacefully over the city, waiting for his persecutors to reach him.

Then he heard a female voice and felt a burning fiery breath at his side.

-You know it, right? -said Shyvana.

-Now you confirm it. I only expected it. -calmly answered the Sentinel's Sorrow.

-The cycle has accelerated itself. This war is going to kill a lot of people, Galio.

-Most will die fearing a monster. And those who don't will probably live long enough to become one. You have seen it as many times as me, Shyvana.

 

...

 

Sharp crystals of beautiful colours surrounded them while they advanced through the caves. What was the real nature of that place? Sona couldn't tell, since she didn't get to see no more than the floor of it.

Taric's gems protected them from anything that could try to enter their range. Looking as hard as diamonds, those huge opal crystals moved with them, always keeping the same distance from Taric. Was that the real power of the Gem Knight or the mine was the one that was granting Taric such an ability? Whichever was the answer, she thanked the gods for having gifted her the chance to be accompanied by him. Without her etwahl there was nothing she could do on her own.

-¿Are the boots comfortable Sona? -asked Taric, his hammer shining brightly with the warm bright of rubies.

That made her feel safer than she had ever been. Sona shook a bit her hair and then answered with a shy smile which Taric understood as an affirmative response. She couldn't remember the last time she had walked that much. but Taric had been really sympathetic and had thought about every single detail. Planned pauses, food and drink... and his magic.

Suddenly, the opal crystals were at her face. She had dived way too deep in her mind, and she wouldn't have realized that she was about to hit the opal crystals if not for Taric's hand on his shoulder. Their protection was no longer centered at the Gem Knight, and Sona had no idea of why that was happening.

-A wall, Sona. -pointed out Taric.- Stay back, I've got work to do. You should take some rest, you look tired.

Sona walked to the opposing side of the enclosure just to find out that a sapphire bed was being created there. 'Sapphire for divinity.' she remembered. She laid on the bed and closed her eyes. The last thing she saw was Taric hammering the other side of the opal wall. No noises, no tremors. His work was always calm and quiet, and so were the crystals. Everything was that way with Taric.

 

…

 

When Sona woke up, the ground was softly trembling. Usually that would have scared her, but this was different; it was a calm tremor, one that could remind you of the shore being buffeted by the soft waves of the Ionian coast. She opened her eyes and looked for Taric in the dark, but there was nothing to see.

-Don't worry. -whispered Taric's voice.- We're advancing slower than expected, I didn't expect this part of the mountain to be this way.

Sona was worried about her sleep; how much time had she been lying in the sapphire bed? The last thing she remembered was Taric working onto a wall that annoyed them. How much time had passed after that? She felt as if she had slept for years.

-You looked really tired. It's been three days and two nights since you fell asleep. -answered Taric, as if he could feel Sona's doubts and fears.- Don't worry, I can't read your mind. But the gems... they transmit your feelings. Your fear, your anguish... There's no reason for it, Sona.

Then she felt something warm over his hand. Taric's strength made her feel safe. His calm reached her through the sapphires, and even when drowning in the deepest of the darks she could feel that hope that warmed up her heart. A light glow shredded some light into Taric's face, where a broad smile laid. She knew she was safe.

 

…

 

Quinn could not calm down. The execution was something she was clearly against, but she could not disobey Garen. Not now, not during these days.

Also, the weather didn't help at all; the storm was lasting way longer than usual, with lightnings causing several fires around the city. The climatic anomaly had taken more than thirty victims, and that was without counting the casualties of the government’s repression system that were hidden behind such an unnatural incident. To add up, Valor was nowhere to be seen.

She couldn't understand how Lucian was so calm. While she and Vayne shivered nervously, Lucian was nearly falling asleep besides the platform's small stairs; with his gun at his feet, he used Senna's as a pillow by laying it on his knees and his head on it. Meanwhile, countless citizens gathered in the square; they had come to see Poppy's execution.

Dark times bring dark thoughts to people's mind and dark needs to their hearts. They were not mean or evil; they were just scared. Propaganda and misinformation had widely spread a feeling of insecurity that had deeply dug its way through the Demacian hearts and infected every feel with hatred and mistrust; that was the only explanation she could find, the only way to justify their actions. Poppy's death would be a bless for them; the execution's duration was time that they wouldn't be using to try to face their own problems, the execution's reasons were the nonsense that helped them to find someone who blame for their misfortunes and the spitting they were giving to and old friend like Poppy was no more than their desperate wish for something to change.

 

...

 

Something woke Lucian up again. Was it noise? A step? No, it was different this time. People were silent. Even Garen was staring at the skies. They all looked charmed, as if a witch had forced them into a hallucination or something like that. ¿What were they looking at?

It took him a bit longer to realize; the air was glowing lightly. Small lights floated around, as minuscule as you might see the stars, but at the reach of his hand. Time felt slower around him; he could feel more than ever. The air through his lungs, the wind trying to wave his hair; the weight of Senna in his hand, the lack of something deep in his heart. And then the gust came.

Most people fell to the ground. Those who were not lucky elevated to the skies and fell onto those that were besides them seconds ago. Even Garen was lying in the ground, his sword soaked in blood and nailed on the ground, with a small hand laying at its side. Lucian felt his king’s anger for short; once he realized Poppy was not there, he smiled to himself and run out of the square. He knew that Garen had seen his face; without a head to chop off, he'd look for someone to blame.

He had to leave the city.


	12. Cling-clang go the chains

The Viscero was dead. Xin Zhao too. Still, something walked through the paths and roads of Runeterra with Thresh, and it definitely looked like him.

 

...

 

Astor could do nothing but hide after he felt them. Astor had never been special; a common merchant that lived on the roads between towns and cities, aiming for no more than another day of life. He was what we would call a normal person; nothing distinguished him from any other travelling merchant. And he thanked that.

His red eyes were always covered with tinted lenses that showed the typical brown eyes to the world. His short white hair was dyed pitch-black, leaving no trace of its true lack of color; same with his eyebrows. Astor shaved every inch of his face every morning, for later covering it all with tons of makeup; that's how his pale white skin ended up reminding everybody of the Ionian beaches. Aside from the lies, everything was normal for Astor; but not that day.

Polly, his albino mare, had suddenly started to run, leaving him alone by the fire. If he hadn't known the animal since it was born he would have thought that some animal had scared her, but that was not the case. After the chaos of his beloved mare departure was over, the night's silence reigned for a moment. But it didn't take any long for the cling-clang of some chains to echo through the night.

He didn't realize what he was doing until the fire was no more than cinders. His cargo hidden in the forest and his soul on his feet, digging him deep in the ground. Astor couldn't even make sure that he was breathing; something was holding him back from doing anything that was not silently hiding. He was scared with no reason; no reason until he saw them.

He recognized Thresh from the very beginning; once human, he was no more than a monster now. A mad man that had laughed at death itself and now walked through Runeterra harvesting souls. He had heard countless tales about him, especially during his times at Bilgewater. He remembered a young man crying at a bar in a small village near the city of Noxus talking to everyone about Thresh's insane laugh as he took the soul of every single thing he had loved. But the Chain Warden was not alone.

A man whose armor was soaked in blood, whose spear was letting go little droplets while they both walked at the rhythm of the cling-clang of the chains. A man whose face showed nothing; no fear, no hate, no love or empathy. A man whose eyes were closed, whose mouth only opened to answer the questions of the madman that had him in chains.

Suddenly, Astor heard a small squeak at his side. When he looked, he found a small light that danced around him; the surprise stunned him for a second, and after that he screamed. He heard one last loud cling of Thresh's chains, and then he started to run.

What to do? There was no time for thinking, he could only run. He could only follow the aether wisps.


	13. Dead man walking

-You also heard it. -whispered Thresh, without asking for an answer.

He needn't reply. Whoever he was, his answer didn't matter now. He had been called a lot of names, but now he was no more than a living dead walking with the sickest warden the world had ever met. He didn't really like the sensation of being nothing but a dead man walking, but the feel of liking something was unbearable to his existence. The dead man found himself on the floor, and Thresh talked again.

-Don't you remember what I told you? If I talk, you answer. -angrily said the Chain Warden.- If I walk, you do. Wake up, we've got a long road to walk.

He woke up, his eyes burning at the sight of Thresh's smile; if he was still alive, he'd be afraid. But he was not alive anymore. Xin Zhao was dead. The Viscero was buried deep beneath the Noxian arena, and the Seneschal of Demacia had died at the hands of Noxus. There were no roles left for him to live.

...

 

Captain Fortune was leading the fleet; his vessel was being followed by seven other ships which as a whole were known as  _Riptide_. In the past twenty years, those eight crews had been paid to protect Ionia; not a man or woman of Bilgewater had died while on duty, and not a single Noxian ship had lasted long if the patrols were around. But the Black Mist... this was a completely different enemy.

Year after year, the Black Mist grew stronger. The dead ones were literally knocking at the doors of every single person that inhabited Bilgewater, calling for their relatives to share with them the trip back to the Shadow Isles. This expedition was something outstanding; the last hope of every man and woman of the region. 

But the Black Mist did not forgive the absurd recklessness of the men and women who had set sail. Days passed by, but there was no trace of Captain Fortune's crew. Not a single ship on the horizon; nothing but mist to be seen. The nights were also way more calm than before; nothing but mist to be afraid of.

Yasuo worked hard the first days of Harrowing; he had been three days and nights non-stop fighting those horrors and abominations. He helped the children and their families that tried to escape the terrors that haunted them, he took care of the bar whose owner had been receiving him like a friend would during those last years. At the end of the third night, when he realized that the mist was no more than an empty darkness, Yasuo walked again to the docks. Without a thought, he let himself fall into the very same place that his coats had been three days ago, before the unfolded events.

-The right to die during my watch is held by my enemies and me only. -calmly said while banishing into his own mind and falling asleep.

That night he dreamed. And so he did for the next three days and nights.


	14. For the night is dark and full of whispers

-Vayne will lead your squad today. -said Garen.

-May I ask for the reason behind the change? -asked Ezreal without understanding why Quinn would not be leading her squad.

-You may ask that question; that doesn't mean I'll answer it. -replied Garen while inviting Ezreal to leave his tent.

When he was out he understood why he was being dispatched that fast; Quinn had also been cited. Ezreal had only hated two things in his life; Noxians and the lack of a plan. The flash meeting with Garen counted as one of the latter and annoyed him quite a lot, but there was nothing he could do but to accept it and follow the orders he was given.

...

 

They had left way before the sun had risen; they didn't really feel comfortable scouting so deep, and if we added the lack of trust Ezreal had in his new leader the situation becomes as awkward as it can be. To add on, the rain had not stopped since they left the encampment; it was probably the worst day Ezreal had lived since the war started, and it was only the beginning of it.

The trees felt like torn apart even, the whole forest was empty. Not a soul could be heard, and not a single life showed up around them. The only living being they saw from time to time was Valor, who was scouting for both reconnaissance pairs; Vayne and Ezreal checking the forest and its surroundings, Quinn and the steel legion technician being in charge of the plains.

The day earned a positive point when their scouting finished without a trace of the Noxian army and a message from Quinn that confirmed their presence around the plains. That was the last time they heard about Quinn and the steel legion technician until the night.

...

 

Ezreal had been waiting long for Lux, but she hadn't arrived. As he was tired, it didn't take long for him to fall asleep in the very same place where he had seen her the day before.

The encampment's chaos woke him up later on; the Noxian army was marching. He went to Garen's tent and found him about to leave.

-Take care of Quinn, Ezreal! -shouted the Might of Demacia.- Jarvan IV shall lead the charge, and I'll be there covering him! I need you to take care of her wounds!

Ezreal had no time to answer; as big as Garen was, he had vanished into the chaotic crowd that was the Trinity army. It didn't take long for him to hear a groan and Quinn's voice calling for him. He ran towards her and prepared some painkilling medicines. After Quinn's pain faded away, she started to talk frantically.

-I'm sorry Ezreal, I'm so sorry, it wasn't meant to be that way.

-Calm down and rest Quinn, you're hallucinating because of the medicines. -answered Ezreal trying to get his squad leader to sleep.

-No I'm not, I wish I was... That wasn't meant to happen Ez, we got caught... -continued Quinn.

-What happened to the steel legion technician that was with you? Couldn't he protect you? -asked Ezreal nervously.

-She won't come back Ezreal... -whispered Quinn before fainting.

Ezreal couldn't believe what he was thinking. He needed to be wrong; she had to come back.

…

 

-Go after her Malcolm. -said Darius.

-I know that we need every sword we may have, but it's pointless. -answered Malcolm.

-What's that thing that you find pointless? -arrogantly asked Darius. - Your fear?

-Going after another soldier that leaves is pointless Darius. -replied Malcolm. -Riven is nothing but another sword leaving our ranks. I won't waste my time chasing her.

Darius grabbed his axe and left. Malcolm heard a familiar voice in the dark in the very moment that the Hand of Noxus was out of sight.

-This battle will be our masterpiece, Aalcox.

...

 

Without Darius knowing, Malcolm left the temporary military base in the search of Riven. He could not leave loose ends.

The ones of his kind had proficiency for finding the right person in the right time; Riven was one of those special people whose destiny is carved in stone, but Malcolm didn't want Darius to change her destiny. She would die in a fight worth her sword, not a silly suicide skirmish.

Even though... as Aatrox had told him, today's battle didn't have to be a skirmish. With his power, this day could be remembered as one of the greatest strikes that Noxus had ever accomplished. A battle worthy of leaving it's trace in Runeterra's history.

But Malcolm had other plans. Yes, the Darkins had all been created with the same purpose; war of yesterday, war today and war for tomorrow. But that didn't mean that their goals were the same. Different powers, different ambitions and different destinies awaiting them, having in common nothing more but the power to change history as if they were the ones writing it; the irony was that theirs was the only fate they could not rewrite.

He was diving deep in his mind when he suddenly saw a spark light up in front of him. A bird attacked him, blinding Malcolm for a second until he understood what was happening; an ambush planned by one of the Demacian reconnaissance squads.

In the blink of an eye the bird was back at him, but now there would be no surprise for the darkin. He'd grab that bird on flight and squeeze it until blood ran as is they were on the Noxian arena. He could feel the bird approach him. It was fast, but Malcolm's control over time let him know when to strike.

Unless another one of his kin intervened; the butterfly that had been flying around him suddenly bursted, and Aatrox, the Darkin of Glory, appeared in front of him. His blade didn't hesitate and swiftly cut through the bird's head; now it was no more than dust, laying on the ground.

Another spark shone in front of him in the very moment that Aatrox turned his face towards him. Malcolm could not even hear him saying goodbye.

…

 

Aatrox was nowhere to be seen, and Aalcox was feeling weaker than ever. Malcolm asked himself what was going on, but he could find no answer; a bright light blinded him, and something was tying his feet to the ground.

-This is him Quinn! -shouted a distorted voice.- I can't contain him for long!

The thought of having been caught was started to annoy him, but that phrase made his day; the mage was scared. Some seconds later, he felt his feet breaking free of the chains that tied him, and the light that was blinding him suddenly weakened. Before the woman inlaid in armor could notice, Malcolm had her grabbed by the neck. After struggling a bit he felt that the armor was being torn to pieces; he then found the mage in front of him, wielding a wand whose end was shining bright. Only then Malcolm realized that he was facing the Lady of Luminosity.

She was well known within the Noxian ranks; countless soldiers had succumbed to her spells and sorceries. Still, that little girl was nothing more than a warm-up for someone like him. Malcolm avoided spell after spell moving rapidly through her missiles of what looked like solid light. Once he reached Luxanna's back, he grabbed her face and lifted the Lady of Luminosity from the ground; he wanted to read her before erasing her existence.

A dark and secret past. A family forgotten, another one planned. An explorer. A gift. A smile, hope. A lie. A secret kept. And a long life to live.

-She's the one! -shouted Aalcox and Malcolm at once.

Suddenly, Aalcox started to feel something that weakened him. The light chains had hit deeper than they thought, and he was now being confined to the deepest part of Malcolm's heart.

-Let her go! -shouted Aalcox using Malcolm's voice.

But Malcolm could do nothing because the hero's light was blinding him. Aalcox decided to interrupt the channeling ignoring the possible side-effects; there was no way he could survive such a force for so long.

...

 

Riven ran towards the last place she had seen the bird land as fast as she could; the wind she had felt was clearly the fruit of Aatrox's wings.

When she got out of the forest and reached the hill she saw them; Malcolm holding the Demacian mage known as Luxanna with one hand, and Quinn, the Demacian scout that she had been hunting, pointing her crossbow at Malcolm's head.

Riven had never liked Malcolm; he was a quiet man who always did his job in silence, ignoring everyone who tried to help or advise him. But her opinion didn't change a plain fact; Malcolm always succeeded. That was why she still wanted to save him; even if she was escaping Noxus, Riven was still Noxian. She wanted them to win this war, and Noxus needed Malcolm in order for that to happen.

-What's broken can be reforged. -whispered Riven to the sword that Malcolm gifted her when she was a child while positioning between him and Quinn.

She heard Quinn's crossbow fire a bolt. After that, Malcolm screamed in pain. Riven called the winds and slashed fiercely in front of her, directing the shockwave towards Quinn who disappeared downhill, falling into a huge rock's gap. And then she realized she was bleeding. She turned towards Malcolm, only to find him grabbing her by the throat.

-I knew you would do something important Riven. -said Malcolm.- I did right, you were the best recipient I could find for the sword that killed the last archmage.

-Why are you doing this, Malcolm? -whispered Riven while choking.

-You would never understand it, and I have no time to explain it. -answered Malcolm, feeling how Aalcox was weaker after every second that passed by.

Lux suddenly fainted, and Malcolm let go of her body, which then hit the ground doing no sound at all. With a strange smile on his face, Malcolm raised a foot and stomped Lux's neck until the head was separated from the body, which got kicked and fell where Quinn had ended up.

-You'll serve a greater good now, Riven. -said Malcolm, raising a fist that was glowing as if it was nothing more than solid light.

Both Riven and Lux screamed a word after that.

 

...

 

Quinn was crying; Valor was dead, Lux had been captured and she was going to die abandoned between some rocks lost in a small hill of Runeterra. Nothing could be worse than the certainty of being unable to do anything. At least that what she thought until Lux's beheaded body fell at her side.

...

 

Darius didn't know what to do; the alliance's army was marching, and they were not morally prepared to face them. His soldiers were afraid; not of death, because a Noxian never fears death, but afraid of going back home with the burden of a lost battle at their backs. The dead ones would be the ones considered lucky that day. A few hundred Noxians against the biggest army that Runeterra had ever seen.

-Malcolm's here. -said a timid voice, whose owner's hand was pointing towards the fading sun.

Darius could not believe what he was seeing; Malcolm and Riven were walking towards the Noxian soldiers, slowly, the man with a smile on his face and the woman hugging her broken sword. When Malcolm was in front of Darius, he showed him Luxanna's severed head.

The Noxian soldiers were silent at the beginning, until they understood what that meant. The whole army singed that day while they marched towards their enemies. No one would believe what happened that night. Not even the protagonists of the unfolded events.

...

 

-We did it Darkwill. -said Aatrox. -The Darkin of Glory and the Darkin of History crowned the alliance as the victors of the battle and the war, but they had nothing but tears to share. The Noxians were the true victors; theirs was the glory and they rewrote a story that otherwise would have already finished, granting themselves another chance to live.

-But you couldn't stop Jax. -answered the Ziraeth.

-I didn't even find him, and Aalcox thinks he's dead. -replied Aatrox.- As far as we know, he might be dead, his corpse laying in a frozen tomb of the Freljord.

-If that's the case find the body and bring it to me, Aatrox. Stop fooling around.


	15. Haunted

-She left a long time ago, Yasuo. -said Yone. -The assassin you were looking for, the one that we should have been chasing instead of you, is dead now.

-That's impossible brother. -arrogantly answered Yasuo before taking a drink. -I saw her when the Noxians came. She still walked, holding that cursed blade and a bright wand with her.

-That's not who you're looking for, I am telling you that Riven is already dead. -repeated Yone while looking at his brother empty the bottle in the blink of an eye. -I have met her here, and so have you.

Yasuo spitted on the floor and rose, only to find out that there was no ground at all.

-Why am I still dreaming brother? -asked Yasuo to the remains of his brother.

-Maybe you don't really want to wake up Yasuo. Knowing what you have done because of our chase, being certain that you'll never have the chance to prove that you're not guilty... -said Yone, who was now at his back. -You can join me brother. Here you'll have nothing to worry for.

-I'm really sorry, brother. -whispered Yasuo. -I can't join you, I just can't. I've got things to do...

Suddenly, Yone's eyes turned red. Blood was streaming down his face, and the ground, once inexistent, was now a growing pond of blood.

-You are not understanding me brother. -said what was left of his brother. -You will join the mist! -screamed the spirit.

Suddenly, a barrage of yellow missiles cut the monster in half, waking Yasuo up.

-Looks like we got here just in time. -shouted a blonde man that Yasuo didn't recognize.

-Are you fine Yone? -asked a girl with blonde curled hair.

...

 

-What happened? -asked Malcolm while waking up.

-Ask Aalcox. -answered Swain.- He can explain it way better than I.

Only then he realized; Aalcox had been sleeping for years only to wake up in the very moment of his death. Malcolm's pitiful existence could have ended, but the Darkin had spared the life that the Noxians were going to take. Well, it had been a pitiful existence after Aalcox's loss.

Now that he was back...

...

 

After days of walking non-stop, Thresh sat down and opened his lantern.

-Come out, I want you to do something for me. -whispered the Chain Warden towards the souls that were starting to leave the lantern.- There's  some people I want you to look for, you already know them and you will all do it for me.

The dead man was on his feet, looking at Thresh and listening to the sick dialogue he was having with the sorrowful souls that inhabited his lantern.

-Do they always do what you tell them to? -asked Xin Zhao, who felt alive and curious for a second. Curious and afraid.

-It looks like it will be hard to teach you when you should talk and when you shouldn't. -the Chain Warden said while looking at Xin Zhao's heart. -You've changed, that's for sure, ha ha ha...

-Do they always do what you tell them to? -asked Xin Zhao again, with the same monotonous voice.

-What they will do is something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. -said Thresh.- They do what I need them to do, not what I want them to. But without orders they would never move.

-Why wouldn't they? -asked Xin Zhao, feeling more alive with each word. He could feel Thresh's curiosity starting to grow, but the fear he had of the Chain Warden was bigger than the part of him that was coming back to life.

-Because I gave them the time of their lives. -said Thresh, pointing the lantern. -Their existence is only painful when I want it to, and the fear of being punished keeps them calm. Look at your surroundings; your lack of soul won't let you notice, but this place would scare the shit out of any human that dared to walk alone through these woods. Specially now...

Suddenly, the place started to shine and a warm breeze hit Xin Zhao's face. After some seconds, everything was back to normal.

-They'll be here soon, dead man. -said Thresh. - You'd better prepare yourself.

…

 

The aether wisps had suddenly disappeared. Astor suddenly found himself alone in the dark of the forest. He could hear a weak water stream around, but he could see nothing but leaves, roots and enormous trees around him. That meant that the chain monster had not followed him, else he would be hearing its chains'  _cling-clang_  at least.

Astor started to look for the water stream, as water would end up guiding him somewhere better than the middle of a forest. A small stream could end up in a bigger one, that would later on show him the way to a river and, if he was lucky enough, a village. But after hours of searching he realized that there was no way to find the stream. Even though there were no sounds, the place was dark and countless plants covered the floor, the shortest ones reaching his knees.

When he was starting to think that his days might be coming to an end, he heard the flapping of wings. That was a good sign; there was something alive near him. Even if it was dangerous, it was better to find something to do than laying in the forest; the lack of activity and the cold would end up killing him otherwise.

Suddenly, he saw something shining under a barbed plant near his feet. At first he thought that the aether wisps might be back, but after looking at it for a bit longer he realized that the creature that was down there was no aether wisp at all. The little yellow being's head was way bigger than it's body, which resembled to that of a human; its small legs didn't touch the ground, and his white eyes were open wide and looking at Astor's boots.

When he started moving his hands towards the little being that was down there, Astor heard the flapping again, now louder. Scared and surprised, he raised his head only to find a red butterfly flying over his head. The insect was approaching him and, once it reached his nose, it bursted in blood.


	16. What the void is she looking for?

Jayce didn't really know why they had left in such a hurry; in a day where the whole Piltover celebrated, he had worked way too much. The girl, Anyssa, had asked him for a guide; the reason was a long trip around Runeterra searching for a family relic, or something like that. But Jayce knew when he was being lied to, and that had been one of the countless times that he had let the lie pass by. "Ezreal is your man." said Jayce. If Ezreal worked with her, Jayce would end up knowing what she was really looking for.

After some hours, he received a call from the Prodigal Explorer; he wanted to know when his artifact would be ready to use.

...

 

 LeBlanc had seen it in Darkwill's eyes. Whatever he was planning, it was no good, and the Black Mist at Bilgewater had to be a part of his plan; it made no sense that they sieged the city only some lunar cycles after the last attack, they usually took a year or two between every wave. But he had also felt fear in his eyes. 'Sweet Elliot...' thought LeBlanc. Not even Darkwill was able to predict what his own plans would end up being.

The girl that everyone saw as Anyssa already knew who she had to talk to. The Prodigal Explorer was the man she needed; no other former warrior knew the various places of Runeterra as well as him, and there was no other viable option because of the time it would take to get them ready; not even Sivir would have everything ready for that very same night, even when granted half the gold of Runeterra. She had to be thankful that Jayce had accepted to receive her at his office in such a special day where everyone was in the demonstrations and other events; the major didn't lack any work that day, and he still found out how to plan a meeting.

Once she got into his office, LeBlanc saw what Jayce truly was; nothing more than a former hero of war, which was now a crippled leader. Nothing but a shadow of its former self.

...

 

She had Lux eyes, and her hair's colour was exactly the same. Anyssa didn't really resemble Lux, but those two things were identical; after some thinking, that was enough to get him into the job, even though usually he wouldn't have even thought about taking accepting the meeting in a day like that one. Still, the similarities with Lux and the secretism of the young woman had been enough to make his interest be strong enough to take over his sleepiness. He did not remember having worked any other day in his life when concerning this day.

The little girl's job had sounded more like an order at first, but once they got to know a little bit of each other's intentions the conversation went on smoothly. In the end, he would be paid hundreds of thousands just for accompanying her, no matter if they succeeded or not. If they did find what she was looking for, she would double up the amount. Looked like a good deal, and that was why he would have avoided it. Good deals didn't exist in his job; those who offered a good pay were usually liars or thieves. But the curiosity killed the cat.

The main question that occupied his head was; what the void was she looking for?


	17. Into the woods

Sona felt as if weeks had passed away while they were escaping Demacia through the old mines. The moment in which Taric's opals started to disappear and the sun bathed her bare shoulders she felt as if it was one of the best days of her life.

-It's been a whole week. Shyvana and them should be around here. -said Taric, looking at her eyes while he softly passed his hands through his hammer's sides.- We were supposed to meet right here.

Sona would have been nervous if it had been another person the one that talked those words. But the way Taric did it, even if she knew that he was not comfortable with the situation, only transmitted peace. Taric's presence made her feel as if everything was alright. Suddenly, Sona noted how Taric was silently calling her.

When she got closer she realized that Taric was pointing at something in the floor; a blood trail went into the woods.

-It's recent. -whispered Taric.

Without a single word, Taric started to walk, diving deep into the woods, following the fresh blood that laid drying in the ground.

...

 

Why was Gnar so excited? Didn't he realize what they meant?

Rengar had discovered Gnar the wrong way; he had thought of the little creature as a prey, only to discover himself closed in a cave against a real monster. That nearly cost him the other eye.

The presence of that Gargoyle and the Half-Dragon in the forest was unusual; the fact that they were carrying a handless yordle was even stranger. And when something strange happened in the forest, Kha'Zix knew about it. Kha'Zix was always around, lurking, waiting for something that could distract Rengar; then he would go into a messy battle that usually ended with both of them hurt and the third party torn to pieces.

But it would be different now. Rengar and Gnar together had managed to protect all those simple beings that wandered hopelessly into the forest. Sometimes he still missed the days when he would be the one hunting these creatures; he knew that the half-dragon's head would look great in his belt. But the appearance of both Gnar and Kha'Zix had changed it all. Kha'Zix taught him to focus in one prey at a time. Gnar taught him to expect the unexpected, and to be respectful with those who look weaker thank you. The little creature had also taught him how hollow and alone both had been before meeting each other.

-¡Demagliaaaaa! -shouted Gnar, while jumping onto the Gargoyle's head.

His little Gnar was always curious, always happy and always in trouble. His little friend Gnar had always been like that; at least since Rengar knew him.

...

 

At first, Shyvana had feared that the little creature attacked Poppy; yes, they could just take it down, but they needn't risk calling the attention. The woods were still way too close to Demacia, Quinn and Vayne wouldn't take long to discover their track and follow them wherever they went.  _'Even if they didn't want to...'_  thought the half-dragon.

The loss of the king, Jarvan the IV, had been a horrible strike for Demacia as a whole, but those closer to him had suffered it more.  _'Nothing more than ashes.'_ had said Garen, before jumping at her sword in hand. Her beloved king, Garen's best friend and Demacia's strangest ruler.

Jarvan's death was something that would haunt them all for a long time; Shyvana knew that she'd be lucky if she got to die without remembering his smile.


	18. Consume and adapt

-We found them. -whispered Taric to Sona. -What's that thing you're holding?

She hadn't realized; her  _etwahl_  was at her hands; again, the instrument managed to find itself in her hands no matter what the fate might place between them. Calmly, Sona started to play her music. The whole woods felt different, more alive than any other forest had ever been.  _Song of celerity_.

-I see. That'll be helpful. - said the gem knight while pointing at a wounded yordle that laid in the floor besides Shyvana and Galio.

...

 

The little creature jumped off of Galio's head and started walking towards two people that were coming towards them; after a while, Shyvana recognized Sona and Taric. Without hesitation, she carried Poppy towards them as carefully as she could.

-Taric! Sona! It's so good to find you here! -said Shyvana.- We couldn't wait you at the meeting point; we were being chased, and the woods were the only place where the Demacian rangers wouldn't have followed us.

-She needs to be treated. -urged Taric, pointing at Poppy's hand- Sona might have a way of helping her better than I; my power is not enough in such a situation.

-If something has to be done, she needs it to be done now. -said Galio with a deep voice- There's not much time left.

...

 

Sona nodded her head while playing her  _etwahl_. She had missed it so much; she had felt weak without it, and she had felt unable to explain herself. Yes, Taric was sympathetic and he usually knew what she needed, but even gems and Taric's empathy had their limits.

She could feel how everyone calmed down while she played her music.  _Aria of Perseverance._

...

 

Rengar could see how the yordle's bleeding arm quickly turned into a stump that looked as good as an injure like that could. That kind of magic still fascinated him; to fight an enemy with such a power would have been a great honor for him, and the musical instrument would look great as a trophy.

But Rengar needed to focus. Where was Kha'Zix?

...

 

Gnar could feel something strange in the air. He could feel the friendliness of the humans; the gargoyle and the yordle were no threat to him. Also, kitten was looking at him from the trees. But there was something more, and that unexpected presence made him angry.

Gnar was angry, and not seeing where the unexpected presence was bugged him even more than usual. Gnar was angry. Gnar was really angry.

-GNAAAAAAAAAR!

...

 

Rengar saw it all happen.

Kha'Zix had jumped onto the two humans that were healing the yordle while the gargoyle and the half-dragon talked aside, but his leap had been interrupted by Gnar's hand.

The voidborn abomination had landed on a tree in an awkward position, but Kha'Zix wouldn't stop after that. Rengar knew that the annoying bug wanted him to go in; it was a competition, nothing but a show for him now. And Rengar committed to it.


	19. The Conflagration

LeBlanc's mimicked version was still with the Ionian outcast and Ezreal, but she had separated from them hours ago.

-Why now? -asked the Ziraeth.

-We just follow the call. -answered Hecarim.- When we're given orders we follow them. When there's war, there's death, and with death the Shadow Isles grow.

-What war? -asked LeBlanc, more curious after every word the Shadow of War pronounced.

-That's none of my concern. -pointed out Hecarim while still rampaging through what was left of the poor side of Bilgewater.- If we're called to war, we go. It's our fate, our duty.

Suddenly, a greenish light hit Hecarim, and his eyes glowed familiarly.

-It's all about Thresh, right? -spitted LeBlanc.

-It's something bigger than you, Ziraeth. -answered a voice through the monster's mouth.- Some things are better kept away from those close to us. At least that's what he said.

-Shut up and answer my question! -shouted LeBlanc.

But there was no answer; rampaging through what was left, Hecarim had abandoned the place, accompanied by an army of undead spirits that would make sure nothing could stop him. She could still hear Thresh's laugh at the cells he had been confined.

Maybe he had had a reason for trying to kill her. And maybe he still had it.

...

 

 

Hours had passed since Malcolm had realized that he was alive when he shouldn't and Swain had told him that Aalcox was awakened. It didn't take him long to realize that Aalcox was nervously screaming as he had never heard a Darkin do, and it was taking way longer to shut him up.

-What's wrong with you?! -shouted Malcolm.

-Find the girl and wipe away the risks! -screamed Aalcox in Malcolm's mind.

-Which girl? -whispered Malcolm while struggling to keep his composure.

-KILL THE KING'S SISTER! -screamed Aalcox; now even Swain heard it.

-Which king? -asked Swain with a peremptory voice.

His voice was enough to calm Aalcox down.

-The Demacian king. His sister...

-She died years ago. -pointed out Swain.

-Not really... -said Malcolm with a smile on his face.- She's not dead  at all...

...

 

-You don't look like a worthy recipient.

-Who are you?! -shouted Astor. He didn't know where the voice came from; he was lying on the ground, covered by plants. Those yellow little beings were still hanging around him, now moving nervously in circles.

-That's none of your concern now. -answered the voice.- Just do as I tell you and I will give you a less painful death than I want to right now.

It had been long since Astor had left words like those unanswered, but that was the first time that he didn't know who he was talking to. For the Void's sake! He didn't even know WHAT he was talking to.

-Just bring me where I want to go. -said the voice, now calmer.- Then I'll make you free of the agony of living.

And it would still be long before he ever let anyone fool him.

-I think you don't realize who you're talking to. -confidently said Astor, before agonizingly screaming and bending in pain.

He was going through such an agony that he didn't even realize that the little yellow fellows were gone. But they weren't leaving for long...

...

 

-They escaped. -answered Garen from the throne that had once been of his old friend and king Jarvan Lightshield the fourth of his name.

-I guess they are being hunted down like the filthy scum they are... -answered Darius.

-They got into the forest. -replied Garen.

-Oh, and I guess that your scouts can't follow a track when it takes a little effort, right?

-You're not understanding a single word of mine. -said Garen while taking a map that was hanging on the wall and throwing it on the floor in front of Darius.- They got into the Forest.-said Garen again.

-I'll bring you enough men to cut that forest down tree by tree. -said the hand of Noxus.- and then we will raze Bandle City to the ashes.

 

...

 

The small yordle-like creature transformed in the blink of an eye; a huge bloodthirsty beast was now between them and a voidborn abomination that had suddenly appeared. And some seconds later, another monster was jumping from a bush nearby; the ferocious feline-like beast was on the voidborn beast in a second. Shyvana could see how they fought each other with an innate hate that scared the soul out of her.

-You're leaving. -said Galio, turning towards the 3 huge beasts that were fighting besides them.

-And you're coming with us! -screamed Shyvana.- We won't leave you behind!

-FLY, YOU FOOLS! - roared the white feline beast while holding the Voidborn on the floor.- NOW, OR I SWEAR I'LL CUT YOU DOWN TO PIECES AFTER FINISHING HIM!

-Leave.- said again Galio while walking towards the battle.- I'll catch up to you.

-But...

-Do it. -ordered Galio.- Reach Bandle City, tell them what's about to come and live. I'll catch up to you.

Without looking back, Shyvana carried Poppy, Taric and Sona on her back and left the place. A blazing path showed him where they were going, but Gnar, Rengar and Kha'Zix were way more important now than a path to follow.

 

...

 

-Care with Gnar.-shouted Rengar.

It took long for Galio to realize that the beast was talking to him. Shortly after, the so-called Gnar jumped on him.

-Do not hurt him! -roared the white fiery beast.- He'll calm down in a while! Just leave!

-I'll help you.

-YOU WON'T! -said Rengar throwing a bola to Galio's feet.

Only then the hunter realized his mistake. A gust hit both Kha'Zix and him, who ended one on each other's side laying in the floor. Suddenly, Galio shot a blast and both monsters laid on the ground crippled.

-How'd you dare... -angrily whispered Rengar before disappearing.

Without hesitation, Galio started to shine as he had done only in the most dangerous of times. Gnar, now small again, was throwing rocks at him. The voidborn creature woke up and slowly walked towards him, trying to hurt him in a desperate try of getting something out of the fight.

And then he heard his voice.


	20. Aceptance (Impotence)

-What are you doing here? -said Yasuo. He could trust no one; he never knew if who he met was just another assassin sent to get rid of his existence.

-Ask her. -said the blonde man, pointing at the girl that was at his side.- I just follow orders.

-What was happening here... -timidly whispered the blonde girl- My name's Anyssa. -said a bit louder, with a shy smile on her face.

-I'm Ezreal.

-A name is not something I give so lightly. -answered Yasuo.- What are you doing here?

While waiting for an answer, Yasuo smoothly moved his hand towards his sword. A huge surprise it was when he found out that there was no blade to be wielded.

-Are you looking for this? -said Anyssa, holding his sword on her hands.- Here you have it!

Suddenly, the blade was whirling in the air; she had thrown it towards the mist-covered water. Yasuo could see how the sword would be lost and, with it, his purpose to keep on living.

-What's your name? -repeated the girl.

-Yasuo! -said the Ionian outcast while dashing towards her, fist ready to hit.

-Good to meet you. -said Ezreal with a smile on his face, his fist in contact with Yasuo's and the sword on the other hand.- Here it is. -said while hanging the blade to him.- You're coming with us, right?

Who were these people? Yasuo had no idea. But they could have definitely killed him if they had wanted to. Now he had no chance but to follow them; he knew they were powerful, and he was too tired to try to overcome such a duo.

...

 

While going back to her mime's place, LeBlanc smiled. She had found the man she was looking for. Ezreal had stopped Yasuo from hitting her without hesitation, and that made her feel as she had never felt before.

-Ain't it strange to feel protected? -said LeBlanc to herself.

The Piltover blondie was definitely the right choice, and the new Ionian addition was definitely what she was looking for. They would be useful. Maybe they would be able to stop this nonsense. Now she only needed the Demacian guy.

...

 

Luckily, the mines had recently been used to escape. Yes, the path was crowded with the beasts that the so-called "Demacian justice" had casted outside of their city-state, but at least he was able to walk his way out by running and shooting.

The dark of the caves was only fought by the lights of his pistol and Senna’s, which were shooting the life out of every being that dared reach his sight. Still, he felt as if he knew the path. As weird as it sounded, it was as if the lustrous stones were guiding him through the dark cave.

 

...

 

-We're leaving someone behind.- said Taric.

-Galio will reach us when it's time.- roared Shyvana, who was rampaging through the forest, clearing his way towards Bandle City.

-I don't mean him. -answered Taric.- We need to turn back.

-Look at the yordle, Gem Knight.- said Shyvana with a peremptory voice.- The man that's late can wait.

With unease, Taric accepted the half-dragon's words. No one should be left behind in days like these. Especially if it was the man he thought it was all about.


	21. Denial (Apex)

Lucian heard the chaos while leaving the cave, and Galio's glowing guided him to the skirmish.

-Are you seeking for help gargoyle? -shouted Lucian while culling in. 

...

 

He should not have come; at least not now.

If Lucian entered the spell's area, Durand's enchantments would hurt him as much as they will punish those beasts. Galio had to interrupt it, and so he did.

-Bastard! -roared Rengar- Why did you let him go?! -asked the beast while jumping on Galio.

-Calm down kitten. -said Lucian while taking aim.- You'd better rest, they might be coming.

-WHO?! -shouted Rengar again, annoyed by the presence of foreigners in his woods. If he had not lost the habit of killing the visitors this situation would have never happened.

-Demacia, Noxus... whoever they are now. -answered Lucian, with his guns still pointing at Rengar's head.- We should be leaving.

But they were given no time to abandon the place.

-There's something we need to talk about.- said the  _Ziraeth_.- But first...

With a glance of the Ziraeth, Lucian turned into stone.

-He'll be fine, gargoyle. -said Darkwill while walking toward the beastly trio that laid in front of him.- There's something we need to talk, and I'm not a friend of human ears.

...

 

-Don't you see it in her, Garen? -asked Darius.

The girl, once known as a Noxian exile, was looking at him in a strange way. There was something familiar in her, but be it the look, the timid smile or the luminous broken sword, it was not enough for him to recognize his very own sister.

-This can't be her.- answered the self-proclaimed Demacian king.- This is not her. OFF WITH IT, THIS WOMAN IS NOT MY SISTER! GET HER OUT NOW!

-You only need time, you will acknowledge your mistake. -said Darius.- You will do it, given the right time... Do it, Lux.

A waving of the sword, as slash in the air and a bright light preceded the luminous prison that held the Demacian king on its spot. No more words from the Noxians were needed; Garen's face was enough for them to know that he believed them now.

-How? -curiously asked Garen to Darius.- And... why? -he whispered, while looking at his sister.

-It was for Valoran.- said Darius. 

"Thanks, Malcolm." thought the ruling Hand of Noxus. He had never liked the man, but it was clear that he had always been doing some things right. Even his disappearance had been a favour.


	22. The River King

-And you said we were going to...

-Demacia. -firmly answered LeBlanc, interrupting Yasuo's questions.- There's someone there I'm interested in.

-And the forest is the only way you know? -asked the former lone wonderer.

-The forest is not our way, that's just the closest path to the river. -said LeBlanc.

-Are we sailing? -asked Ezreal.- You still need to explain me what's your plan, lady.

-Why should I?

-I came because of a promise.

-And it shall be fulfilled.

-When?

-That's not a question I will answer anytime soon.

The group marched non-stop, the blonde girl leading them through the trees and moss. Doubt was being nourished by the Ziraeth's words, but fear was still stronger.

...

 

Gnar was jumping on Rengar's shoulders, sometimes falling onto the ferocious beast's head, ignoring who he had in front of him. Galio could not believe that the voice he was listening to was the one of the  _Ziraeth_. He could not understand why he was there, in front of him.

-The migration Galio... -started Darkwill.

-That's none of my concern, Ziraeth.- answered the Gargoyle.

-I'm giving you a second chance because I'm trying to behave with who I once thought of as a friend.

-That was thousands of years ago, Darkwill. -answered Galio.- Demacia is my home, as it has been since most people in Valoran remember.

-But you know who you are. -answered Darkwill.- You know what you are, and you know that they don't like you.

-It's nothing but a cycle, Darkwill. You've seen it run through even more than myself.

-This time it will be different. -prompted Darkwill.- This is a whole new thing.

-That's what you always say. You said it ten thousand years ago and you'll say it back in a hundred thousand more. -Galio said while starting to take flight.- I'm not going with you,  _Ziraeth_.

Darkwill was sorry. He did not look as if he was though; feelings are not supposed to be shown by gods. But he had to do it. Galio had to come, or his end would come here and now. That's why he gave him another chance.

With a heavy sound, Galio crashed onto the ground.

\- Why?-asked Galio, now more seriously. Darkwill could feel the doubt and fear in his eyes; it had been way too long since he had seen the Sentinel's Sorrow that way.

\- I already told you. It will be different now. Ages will come and go before we get back here. These kinds of people don’t deserve us.

-My answer is still the same, Darkwill. I'll see my old friends die as monsters if that's what I have to go through, but I won't leave this people behind.

-That's not how it works, Galio. -said Darkwill. His heart was breaking, but he couldn't show it to the outside world. Galio had been, together with LeBlanc, the darkins, the archmages and others of the gargoyle's kind, one of the few that had been around since the  _Ziraeth_  remembered his own existence.- This is not how this was supposed to end, Galio.

...

 

Rengar could not believe what he had seen.

The Demacian gargoyle was nowhere to be found, and Gnar had suddenly transformed while on his shoulders and jumped towards Darkwill, who had completely ignored the huge beast that laid in front of him, aggressively roaring.

-He wants him back.- said the  _Ziraeth_ , talking to Rengar.- Looks like your friend really liked that old gargoyle, but he's smart enough to avoid a fight.

He knew he couldn't trust that being, but Rengar had no options left. After seeing what had happened to Galio, he knew that he did not want to share the same ending.

-You are a curious case, Rengar. -pointed out Darkwill.- Both Vladimir and Warwick were clearly magic users, but you... you are nothing but a beast.

-Keen eye.

-The point is that there is no place for you.

-This forest is my place.

-Not for long.

-Are you threatening me?

-Just look at what's going on, beast. -said Darkwill.- A half-dragon, a thousands of years old gargoyle and a handless yordle appear in your forest, and in less than a day this gun-wielding man and me come through. There's way more to come, and Tahm Kench is not the only one.

...

 

-Got what you needed, dear  _Ziraeth_. -said Tahm Kench, the river king.

-Get it off me. -prompted Darkwill.- Do you see it Rengar? That is for you. -he turned towards Tahm Kench.- Give it to him and explain him the deal.

-Remember our business, Darkwill.-said Tahm Kench.- Vows are meant to be kept, and I shall keep both parts of mine if you dare not redeem this debt.

-Just do your job and I'll do mine.-said Darkwill, before disappearing, vanishing into thin air.

 _Ziraeths_  were always annoying; greedy, gullible bastards that thought of themselves as gods when they were nothing but mere mortals. Tahm Kench would love to tell them the truth, but he would not dare. He had lived through way too many god wannabes.

Sometimes, silence was the funny way.

...

 

-Will this stop her? -asked Rengar.

-Yes, didn't you notice the fear in Darkwill's face? -said Tahm Kench.- This is why there are only two  _Ziraeths_  left.

-Why didn't you kill him then?

-Oh, that would ruin the game.-said Tahm Kench.- There's a word to keep, there's a job to do. And that's what we all live for, right?

-If that's what you mean...

-You'll keep your word and I'll keep his.

-Will Gnar be safe? -asked Rengar.

-The prehistoric being? I can't promise anything. -said the river king.- He's not part of any deal.

-He is now. -said Rengar.- Keep him safe.

Rengar took the obsidian shard and jumped into the river, just like Tahm Kench had told him to do.

…

 

He should have been around there, but the river king was nowhere to be seen.

-Are we waiting for something?-asked the Ionian outcast.

-You are definitely slow concerning some things, Yasuo. -pointed out Ezreal.

-He should be here. -said LeBlanc.- Do you hear me Tahm Kench? You should already be here!

...

 

Anyssa, the blonde girl, was cursing at the river while he and the Piltovian explorer rested nearby. When he was about to start laughing at the ridiculous situation they were at, he saw it happen.

-Patience my lady, patience.- said a frog-like being. A giant frog-like being that responded to the name of Tahm Kench.

-Sorry Mr. Kench.- said Anyssa.- You already know that I grow uncalm with ease.

-I didn't remember it, but I have already noticed LeBl...

-Anyssa was my name, sir!

-Ok lady, ok, sorry for the confusion! -politely apologized the river monster.- Your aura reminded me of someone I met long ago.

-There's something I need you to help me with, River King. -said Anyssa bowing to Tahm  _Stench._

And then he swallowed her and disappeared into the river.


	23. Alone in the dark

No clammy slobber; Tahm Kench left LeBlanc into what looked like an ancient palace. The room she was in was completely empty; no furniture, no illumination, no life. The only light that dared get into that rotten place was the one that strangely passed through the windows, which showed a world sunk underwater.

-What did you do with them? -asked LeBlanc.

-They asked the wrong questions. -answered the River King. 

The words, followed by an uncomfortable silence, were nothing but a mock, and Tahm Kench's laugh showed that seconds later. A laugh that made the very same walls of that place tremble, a laugh that could be listed with the few things that disgusted LeBlanc.

-Of course, they were greedy. They asked for too much. -explained the ancient monster.- You know how it all goes. I was hungry, they had a debt to pay. Am I right, Fizz?

A door opened, and a yordlish water being entered the room. His mouth was full of pointy teeth that resembled those of a shark; he carried a rusty trident and was wearing an armor that looked hundreds of years old.

-He's just a child. The last atlantean child. -said Tahm Kench.- He wished too much, yet he got it all.

The yordlish being grunted a bit, only to show that his mouth was sewn.

-That was not his fault; you already know that I hate those who can't stop talking and sobbing. But you didn't come here for this. What are you looking for, Ziraeth?

-There are a few things I want.

-Then I guess that there are a few things you're willing to give me...

-You'll have Valoran once I'm over.

-What makes you think I don't have it all for me already?

-Well, you're still here.

Tahm Kench's laugh drowned the room again. It looked as if the windows were about to burst, letting the water in. But she knew that things didn't work that way here.

-You're a funny girl, aren't you? -said the River King.- But jokes aside, what will be the deal?

...

 

-It's been days since you said they were coming. -said the remnants of Xin Zhao.

-Yes, I told you we would wait.- pointed out the Chain Warden.- History is not always written with battles, races and conquests; patience is an important part of it, Viscero.

Xin Zhao was not worried about it; the only thing that mattered to him was that, without knowing why, he was starting to feel stubbornly alive again. And the first thing he had felt was fear.

...

 

 _"And that is why they used to call me the harvester of souls."_ thought Thresh. He was sure that when he had met that man there was no single sign of a soul or anything similar. It was a body without will, a bunch of meat and bones living just because it had to. Just because it could.

With time, he had grown a soul on the man; one that was both new and old. He could sense the footprints that the past had left in that body, and no newborn soul was immune to its recipient. But the new soul had something different.

This new soul could feel fear.

And Thresh was yet to know if that was a good or a bad thing for him.

Still, only a man that knew fear would be able to inspire a true fear.

...

 

When Lucian woke up, only Darkwill was still there.

-She will come.

-Who? -asked the Demacian gunslinger.

-You'll know when time's due. What will you do when she does come?

-How should I know? -asked Lucian.- I don't even know who she'll be.

-She'll tell you lies.

-How do I know that it ain't you the one lying?

-It might be both.

-You're not helping me...

-I am, believe me.- said Darkwill.- Once you meet her allies you'll understand me.

-I cannot follow your words.

-You just have to kill them. The three of them. And it will all be over. You'll know who and how in due time.

Lucian had no time to answer; Darkwill was nowhere to be found.

...

 

Meeting that man always reminded him of Senna. Valoran had once been beautiful, that for sure. But without her, this world made no sense; at least not for him.

He would leave Valoran, just like Senna had done. They'd be together again.


	24. The Darkin's Song

-They are marching. -said Astor.

-Where? -asked Darius, grabbing the albino merchant by the neck and rising him three feet over the ground.

-Far away. -grumbled Astor.- As far as I'm concerned, they are marching forever.

-Answer my question!

-The Kumungu jungle! Deep into the Kumungu jungle!

-How are they supposed to leave?

-Deep into the Plague Jungles. -whispered Astor, clearly suffocating.- I don't know how or why, I just know that he was going there!

Darius threw the man into the ground. He needed to talk to Garen.

...

 

-You're a great actor, Astor. -whispered Aatrox into the merchant's mind.

 _"And you're nothing but a selfish bastard."_  thought Astor. He needn't say it. He knew that Aatrox was there. He knew that he would only leave when he wanted to.

-The end is coming,  _paleskin_. -whispered Aatrox.- And you'll witness it with the frontline.

...

 

-The Kumungu jungle? -asked Garen.

-That sick bastard, he'll be there for sure.

-You mean Thresh?

-Of course I mean Thresh. -shouted Darius.- And if he's there... Malcolm might be around too...

-Do you mean the one that did... that... to my sister? -asked the King of Demacia.

-We've got to get them.-said Darius, talking more to himself than to Garen.- We'll murder them! We'll smash their heads into the ground!

...

 

All of a sudden, Tahm Kench jumped out of the water, spitting Anyssa out of his belly. Not even a minute had passed, but the River King and the Piltovian lady had a strange look in the eyes.

-We're leaving immediately. -said Anyssa, with an imperative voice.- I know you won't like this, but...

Then the beast jumped.

 

...

 

If what Darkwill has said was right, she'd be dead in a split second.

If what the catfish had said was true, he'd be the primal hunter of Runeterra.

If what he thought was right, that was the easiest job he had ever been given.

Nothing could go wrong.

 

...

 

Yasuo saw it all happen.

He had never seen such reflexes. The Piltovian explorer had touched something on his artifact and suddenly he had appeared between LeBlanc and the white beast that had jumped out of nowhere. The eyes of the monster showed surprise, as he didn't expect such a reaction from Ezreal.

Anyssa fainted before finishing her sentence. Something glowed and suddenly the beast had disappeared. Ezreal's arm was bleeding, and his weapon was nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile, Tahm Kench was laughing.


	25. The hunter's night

Rengar didn't understand it.

What had gone wrong? He had done exactly what he had been told. He had followed Darkwill's rules and Tahm Kench's advice, yet he had failed. That's what this had been; an utter failure.

At first he didn't understand where he was; a huge hall, with windows that showed a dark seabed that surrounded him. The room was empty but for a small creature with a trident, inlaid in armor and ready to fight.

Where was he now? It didn't matter anymore. It looked like, again, he had to fight for survival. The white beast let go one last roar before jumping into the fray that the Atlantean palace's room was about to become.

...

 

Tahm Kench had carried both Ezreal and Anyssa.

At first it had looked like a trap or something, but Yasuo had to trust the River King; he didn't feel like facing such a demon, not after what had just happened some days ago.

Still, the walk was silent, and he had grown used to Ezreal's talking and Anyssa's orders. The lone wanderer was not as comfortable as he had once been while walking in silence. That's how his conversation with Tahm Kench started.

-Mr... Tahm Kench? Is that your name?-asked Yasuo, without exactly knowing how to ask what he wanted to know.

-Call me King, call me Demon... The River forgets the name of the drowned... -said Tahm Kench with a nostalgic touch in his face.- But yes, Tahm Kench is one of my names. What troubles you, outcast?

-The battle at the riverside some days ago. -straightforwardly pointed out Yasuo, ignoring how the monster knew about his past.- What happened there? Why did that beast attack us?

-You're not asking the right questions, Yasuo. -whispered Tahm Kench.- Or should I call you... Yone?

...

 

He could hear them coming.

Thresh had told him to start marching before they arrived, as if he knew at exactly which point they were meeting without having talked with anyone at all.

-You haven't even whispered to your damned souls. -shouted Xin Zhao.- How are you supposed to know what to do?

-Some of us have plans, Seneschal.- said Thresh.- When you know what's lying ahead of you, it's easier to know what to do. Don't you agree?

-You call everything a plan... -whispered Xin Zhao, clearly annoyed.

 

...

 

Thresh had brought Xin Zhao down quite fast. The Demacian seneschal had not expected the hit that had brought him down in a second; a death sentence that had been written since they met. As a flayed and tormented soul, Xin Zhao was still alive. Still, he was nothing but a parasite now.

-You understand it now? -asked Thresh, his ghostly voice coming out of Xin Zhao's rotten visage.

 

...

 

-Swain is ready to leave with them. -said Aalcox.

-The girl will be there too; the Noxian and the Demacian army will march, and she'll take the lead with those weak kings. This battle might be the greatest of them all, Aalcox...

-Remember what our plan is, Aatrox. -said Malcolm.- This is not only about the greatest battle; this won't be a bloodshed of a week and end; we've got to make the worlds sink with Darkwill.

-Is he really leaving?- asked Aatrox.

-You never listen to Thresh, don't you? -pointed out Aalcox.- The female Ziraeth that can still transition gives him the information just as if he was working for her.

-Haven't we fooled enough of them during their existence? -asked Aatrox.- Their whole species is coming down, can't they see it?

-They know it Aatrox.- calmly answered Malcolm.- They just don't care. They're nothing but weird specimens of a weird species.

...

 

It had taken a long time, but Tahm Kench had narrated Yasuo's life from beginning to end, taking into account details that even the unforgiven Ionian swordsman had forgotten. Now he understood; Tahm Kench was not a being to mock and poke.

-Are you going to ask the real questions now Yasuo?

That is how he learnt who Anyssa was. That is how he learnt what she was and why he and Ezreal had been chosen. He also learnt who they were looking for and where they were marching afterwards.

...

 

Night had finally reached the hunter's life.

He had craved for a worthy opponent, and Tahm Kench had given him what he asked for even though he had failed. He knew what was coming next.

Rengar was bleeding, his only working eye covered in dry blood. The slippery blue creature had managed to avoid every single trick he had prepared for a fight like this. The little trickster had been a fight that he had been wishing for long.

Even though he hated to recognize another being's strength, facing an opponent like that one before dying had been a dream for long. A daydream that let him awake hour after hour, day after day, both in the search of a prey and taking care of his surroundings.

Now he could finally rest.

 

...

 

Meanwhile, all around Valoran, countless little beings wandered through the lands, blessing forests, paths and lives while they crossed a land that was about to change forever. Those who were busy with their own things didn't see them; meanwhile, every single child from Runeterra had noticed that something huge was about to happen.

But adults don't always listen to children, do they?

Adults tend to be busy.


	26. A skirmisher's escape

When Sona, Taric, Poppy and Shyvana reached Bandle City, a whole committee was waiting for them. Teemo had been scouting for days, and once he saw them coming he had returned to the city in order to prepare everything that was needed.

-You're not the first to come.- said Tristana.- We've been guarding for long, waiting so that as many yordles as possible could be able of coming back to Bandle City.

-Since when? -asked Taric.

-Can't tell for sure... since the last Zaun-Piltover incident eight years ago? -answered the yordle.- I just know that we've been on duty since then. When Dr. Heimerdinger returned the work became a little easier.

Sona was listening carefully, without knowing what they would do next. What had Taric planned?

...

 

Tahm Kench and Yasuo found Lucian after days of walking and talking. The forest was getting more dense with every step, and the nights were as silent as Yone's tomb, where not even the wind howled.

The demacian gunslinger followed them without a word after they first met. Tahm Kench's look was enough for him to know that he had to go with them.

-How did you end up here? -asked Yasuo after hours of walking.

-This world is crashing down, I'm just trying to fix a little bit of it. -answered Lucian.

-The world's not going down, it's just your kingdom's problem human. -pointed out Tahm Kench.- Mankind should stop being so self-centered.

-I was just trying to get to know where my friends went.- said Lucian now.- They left because of the chaos that Garen's rage brought to Demacia. But we will need them. I need them.

-You are late, man. -calmly said Tahm Kench.- They are far away now, and it doesn't look like they'll be coming back.

...

 

-That was my last day out. -happily shouted Teemo.- It's a pity to leave Valoran this way, but I guess that it's our only chance. They say that Lulu will bring us to somewhere safe.

-What do you mean with your last day out? -asked Shyvana. Tristana laughed at her ignorance of the situation and decided that it was best to let Rumble explain it.

-You don't know how Bandle City works, right? -said Rumble.- It's quite simple. If we want someone to get in, we're here. If we don't we just aren't. That is how we stay safe. But it takes years to settle down, or at least it usually does. Hundreds of years passed before we could get to roam around Valoran, and for thousands our species did. One of my ancestors was the yordle that opened the gates into Valoran for the first time, Corbyl. -explained Rumble with a proud look in his face.-But, as I said, that was thousands of years ago. Leaving a place is quite faster, especially with the technology we have been able to develop. And, if the wise ones are right, Lulu should be able to help us settle way faster than it would usually take.

-What are we supposed to do? -inquired Shyvana.

-That's not something I should answer. -said Rumble, looking at Taric.

...

 

Lux didn't like where this was leading to. She had never liked to fight, even less when there was no true reason to do so. If she could just explain them...

But she couldn't. There were a lot of things going on in her mind. First off, she needed to keep Riven down. It was difficult to use her powers when the Noxian exile was running rampant through her mind. Yes, she was dead, but it was still her body and a little bit of what she had been was still around. Second, she had been cursed by Aalcox. There was only one way of stopping the curse, and she knew well how.

She had always wanted to do it since that last battle. The last day that she had seen Ezreal, the day when she had left Demacia for good. But she didn't want these whole armies to suffer the consequences.


	27. The trailblazer's path

The yordles had prepared a small building for them to live and rest after the long escape they had gone through.

-I told you that we're not the first leaving, Shyvana. -calmly said Taric.

-That's not the point Taric! -answered Shyvana, who was clearly nervous.- You tricked us into this!

-There's a reason for it, Shyvana... -said Taric on his typical tone, trying to fade out the rage that had lighted up in the half-dragon's heart.

-Your loneliness! -shouted Shyvana.- Is it the fact that you were not called? -angrily pointed out the Demacian warrior.- You know you're not one of us, Taric!

-Why won't you trust me? -said Taric, with his voice rising in volume and deepening it's tone while his gems glowed like bloodstone.- The Trailblazer has always been around here! We'll find the way back into those days!

-They won't be back, Taric.- said Shyvana, with a lower voice.- You met Zilean long ago, you know how ill he is. What he said cannot be blindly trusted.

-It's not about him. -clarified Taric, his voice calming a little while his shield glowed like a ruby.- It's not about a twisted legend that's thousands of years old, Shyvana...

-Then what's it about? -asked Shyvana, tired of Taric's words.

-Just trust me. You'll see him before Bandle City leaves. The caretaker always comes when he's really needed.

...

 

They needed a pause. Both Lucian and Yasuo had been following Tahm Kench's orders for long. He was supposed to know where they were going, but Yasuo didn't trust him enough and Lucian didn't even know about Anyssa and Ezreal.

Also, he didn't know how they were faring with their wounds.

...

 

Nothing but pain.

His arm was aching as it had never been. Jayce was supposed to have fixed the artifact, such a reaction from a hit was not expected. What had that monster used? What weapon was he wielding? It had shone as nothing Ezreal had seen before. And Ezreal, the prodigal explorer, had seen quite a lot of things.

It reminded him of the stones he had seen at the Shuriman tombs; painted in the walls, it looked like those stones had been used to keep something out. The question is; what?

...

 

An obsidian blade. LeBlanc had not expected an obsidian blade. She hadn't even expected the attack, but if it had been a normal beast she could have simply dashed out of its range and stop him. But, why was she alive?

Usually, an obsidian blade would have killed her in the instant that it got to pierce her skin. She could feel the pain of it, but she couldn't tell where her wounds were. She was simply aching, her whole body in pain and paralyzed.

Still, if that was the case, someone had stopped the monster from getting to her.

Someone was foolish enough to try to save her, and she loved every detail of it.

...

 

Hecarim and his army reached him hours after he had finished with the last remnants of Xin Zhao, and after him came Kalista, Mordekaiser, Karthus and more.

It had been difficult for Thresh to convince them all of joining him; most of them had had some highs and lows between themselves during the last hundreds of years, but when Thresh made a call of this type they were all eager to follow.

-To the Kumungu jungle, Hecarim. -said Thresh.

Without an answer, the Shadow of War marched. He had been needed to guide the rest; now he left, since Hecarim had never liked Thresh's tricks. No one liked to fool around with Thresh's lantern.

...

 

When LeBlanc started to feel better, Tahm Kench explained it all to her.

Rengar was the name of the beast that had attacked them; he had never lived in a place so close to where they were by then, but someone had invited him to make a stop by her. Darkwill had given the beast the idea.

-Do you really think I don't know how he got the Obsidian blade? -said LeBlanc, still aching a bit but now able to hold herself on her feet.- Answer my question, you demon.

-You may only have a slight hint, but you can never know something you didn't witness. -answered Tahm Kench, clearly mocking LeBlanc.           


	28. The stalker's pray

Sona could not understand it. Shyvana's words had left her broken-hearted; she could not believe what the half-dragon was saying. Taric was not mean, he was not being selfish.

As much as she repeated those words to herself, they wouldn't kill the doubt that had sprouted into her heart. Taric, the calm knight that had always been there for her, the sympathetic person that had always been eager to lend a hand when needed, the warrior that had been a fierce leader when time called for it; the one and only man she had trusted enough to fall in love with.

Shyvana had to be wrong.

Those were difficult days at Bandle City. Everyone was hurrying up, trying to get their things ready for the departure. Nervous and noisy, the Yordles were always going from one place to another. "No more scouting lady, but I can still guard." used to say Teem when she found him on Bandle City's walls. "Heimerdinger asked for some help." usually grunted Rumble "He can't handle all this mess alone, no matter how many machines are helping him.".

She could not answer. In Bandle City, no one was interested in her  _etwahl_ ; whenever she played it for a while, most Yordles usually asked her to calm the tunes down instead of resting and relaxing with her. That was why she walked and stalked, looking at what everyone was doing, knowing that she could not help. Sometimes she just looked for Taric without him knowing it, just for the sake of seeing him.

He looked calm, he always did. Nothing had changed in his face, not even the day when Shyvana decided to leave Bandle city.

...

 

A few days of rest and LeBlanc was fine enough to walk by herself. Up until then, Yasuo and Lucian had been taking turns to carry her. While they walked and talked she was absent-minded, on her own world of plans and rules, wanting to focus on her objective, but unable to do so.

The man that she had chosen to follow her had risked his own life to save her. That was something that had not happened once in her whole lifetime before; not even Darkwill, her companion since LeBlanc could remember her own existence, had risked even a bit to save her.

But Ezreal had not doubted. He had jumped in in the blink of an eye, if Tahm Kench's words were to be believed. Without even knowing what he was facing, he received the obsidian's hit right in the arm that usually held his Shuriman artifact.

That was why she could not stop looking at him. Tahm Kench carried him over his shoulders. "Some fresh air will do good." argued the Demacian gunslinger. As usual, both Tahm Kench and Yasuo had supported his idea, so she had let the River King carry him.

In the end, they needed to get there in time.

Darkwill would not wait.

...

 

He had been working on this for so long.

Aatrox would love the coming years, Malcolm was sure about that. He and Aalcox had been preparing it all for the bloody bastard; still, there were things that escaped to their reach.

The armies would march, Lux would die and Darkwill would tear the world apart in front of them.

At least that was how he thought that everything should work out.

...

 

He missed her. He wanted to be back with her, to rest in the safety of her arms. To enjoy the comfort that her smile had always blessed with to those who witnessed it.

He had been waiting for so long.

But the wait was about to end. It would all be over soon.


	29. Filling a Void

-Can you walk now?- asked Anyssa.

-Yes, it's way better now.- said Ezreal, even though he wasn't sure if it was correct to say that his coal-black arm was "better".

Even though they tried to hide their thoughts, Ezreal knew what was going through everyone's mind. Most people always tried to take a glimpse at every stump they got to see. The lack of something, sometimes even the lack of knowledge, was something that baited most being into things. And having nothing but a dark cloud in the place that had once been his arm definitely called his companions' attention.

Except for Tahm Kench. He never looked as someone who cared.

...

 

Lux was starting to feel fear. A fear that she had not felt for years.

The faces of the marching men were horrible. Noxus and Demacia had allied for nothing but the sake of killing and massacring. Those sick being preferred to call themselves a hunting party, but they were nothing but an army. A huge army marching towards an enemy that they didn't really know, parading just for the sake of blood gold and pride.

She could also see it in their faces they didn't look at her as people would normally do. Darius saw in her nothing but a weapon, Malcolm's look scared her even more than when he had taken her hostage into Riven's body and not even her brother's eyes could make Lux feel more calm. Garen didn't look like the man he had once been.

...

 

-How is it working Mr. Ezreal? -asked Tahm Kench.

He had not told the rest what was going on, but it was definitely time for some words. It was clear that they wanted an explanation, and Tahm Kench's comment had sparked some curiosity in them.

-Looks great. -answered the Prodigal Explorer.- After some training it's working even better than before.

Not even LeBlanc could believe what they saw afterwards.

They were not getting there late.

...

 

Everything would bend to their will. Darius wanted Thresh's head, and the Hand of Noxus had made Garen believe that LeBlanc and Darkwill, those who had disappeared after Draven's death, were the ones to blame for what had happened to Jarvan. Malcolm couldn’t believe that Darius was letting him live; maybe it was because now he had something to fight for. Darius had always known that Malcolm had nothing to do with his brother's death, even though he knew wrong; that was the only reason that Malcolm could find for Darius to ignore every chance he had for chopping his head off.

How would they react there? How would it all be when they got there? He could feel Thresh's mark on the soil they were stepping on, he could feel the deathhug of the Shadow Isles around the Kumungu Jungle. They were definitely closer to Darkwill than them.

If it all happened as Aalcox and Aatrox expected, Darkwill would leave in front of them, escaping with Thresh, LeBlanc and all those that these two armies blamed. With no one to behead for revenge, they would surely turn onto each other.

-Are you enjoying the ride, Astor? -asked Malcolm to the albino merchant.

 

...

 

He could feel it. She was closer. But Thresh was not the only thing he needed to get her free; the chain warden would not handle her to him that easily. He needed Malcolm's girl. And he wanted LeBlanc to see it.

He had been planning it all for years. He had tricked everyone into it, he could not fail now. Another mistake like Galio's death was not a possibility.


	30. Clash of Fates

It took them some time to understand what had happened. The teleportation had reminded LeBlanc of Thresh's lantern and the likes, but those who were more inexperienced with it, Yasuo and Lucian, were clearly disoriented.

-Where are we? -asked Yasuo, clearly unable to believe what he had just gone through.

-At one final frontier, swordsman. -answered Tahm Kench.- This beautiful existence that you're now witnessing is the borderline between the fearful Kumungu Jungle and the mysterious and unexplored Plague Jungles.

-I see nothing but a bunch of trees. -said Lucian, mocking the demon.- A lot of trees and...

-Is that what you were looking for,  _Ziraeth_? -interrupted Tahm Kench.

The men that had been with her during the journey stared at her. They did not understand Tahm Kench's words. They had not dared fight her since joining; Ezreal expected a prize from the rich Piltovian girl, Yasuo had nowhere to go and Lucian had followed the demon's orders.

-What does he mean, Anyssa? -asked Ezreal, with a sprout of doubt in his face.

LeBlanc could not stand that look any longer. Luckily for her, Darkwill made his appearance.

-Come. -said what looked like nothing but a masked man for the rest.

-I don't follow orders from you, Elliot. -pretentiously responded LeBlanc.

-You'll be coming anyways. -said Darkwill before vanishing into the air and appearing next to a man that was a hundred meters into the jungles.

And he was right. She went, leaving those who she had secretly wanted to call her friends without an answer.

...

 

The blonde girl was walking into the jungle, making her way with her bare hands when she needed to move aside plants, roots and the likes. At first he couldn't see where she was going. He was still a little bit dizzy because of the flashy teleport.

-I know who he is. -said Lucian.

-They are two. -pointed out Yasuo, on a serious note.

-We all know who he is, the girl just called him Elliot. -mockingly said Tahm Kench.

-That monster. -said Lucian, while starting to wield his guns.- He has changed his appearance, but it's still him.

They could not stop him, and they didn't really had the will to.

...

 

-He's coming for you, Aaresh.- said Darkwill.

-And your lady friend is also around.- said Thresh with his ghostly voice.

-The man is annoying.- commented Darkwill.- I want you to take him down.

-I don't follow your orders, you masked clown. -said Thresh before breaking into what sounded like rotten laughter.

Only then Darkwill took the mask off, throwing it into the ground. As frail as it was, thousands of pieces scattered into the ground; thousands of little shining pieces of a life that he was leaving behind.

-I was already going to do it, unmasked clown.-mocked Thresh.- He's a fun game, there's a woman he's fighting for.

Darkwill's eyes shone like blood-bathed rubies; he understood the pain that the man was going through, all while hating himself for working with the likes of madmen like Thresh. Lucian was not alone in his struggle, but he was not going to help a fellow victim.

...

 

An ardent blaze was shot from Lucian's gun, illuminating the darkest corners of the jungle. The few animals that were still around escaped while Yasuo was unable to see anything; that didn’t stop him from hearing them under the noise of the firing guns.

-This is senseless. -said an astonished Ezreal.- This culling will take him nowhere.

Ezreal was getting a shot ready; aiming at Lucian's weapons, his point was to take them down and calm the man down. Firing at will into the unknown would just get him killed. But Yasuo was trying to talk him out of it.

-He's got the right to do it.-emptily said Yasuo.- We shouldn't stop him.

-He's going to get himself killed.-replied the Piltovian explorer.

-If it happens, it will be fighting for what he wants. -pointed out Yasuo.- He'd better die that way than whatever is waiting for us. Can't you feel it in the wind?

-I'm not going to let a man die when I can save him, swordsman.

But Yasuo was not going to let a wish be vanished by a fool's pride. Yasuo knew what fighting for an impossible meant; his life had been a struggle of that kind. Someone born and raised in the so called city of progress could not understand what he had been through, what Lucian was going through. That's why he called the wind.

...

 

His trueshot barrage had disappeared in front of him. He knew it had happened, who had done it and why; the question to be made was how the void had Yasuo done that?

He was about to complain to the swordsman, but the sound of drums drowned the beginning of his words; the sound of marching feet, of military songs. Rough voices pierced through the air, armors ready for the battle and a King leading them through the Kumungu Jungle. The only sound that got over that cacophony was the roar of the millenary trees falling to the hit of axes.

...

 

Thresh never changed. She could sense him from afar, there was no need to see him. The soil itself crumbled in fear when the Chain Warden stepped on it. That horrible being was one of the few existences that could say that she, LeBlanc, had felt the need of avoiding them.

-A pleasure to meet you, m'lady.- said Thresh when she arrived, while Lucian's piercing shots hit the ground and the trees.- I'm sorry, but I got to leave. It’s always good to see you,  _Ziraeth,_ haha.

Thresh was calmly walking towards Lucian, being hit by every single shot that came out of him while his laughter grew in volume, drowning the war drums' and the falling trees' roars.

-That being is as sick as it has always been. -casually commented LeBlanc.- How can you work with him, Darkwill?

-Sometimes a man's needs go beyond his preferences. -said Darkwill, with a light smile on his face.- this is one of those times.

Unexplainably, they were happy to face each other, to meet, to be able to talk between them. It had almost felt like those days thousands of years ago, when life through most of Valoran was too rudimentary for them to care about it. It made them remember about the days in which the  _Ziraeths_  walked the continent like any other species did now; a time in which they were not gods among men, but a community driven by its will to create.

-What has happened to us, Elliot?


	31. Pride, Honor and Treason

-Has something happened to us? -replied Darkwill.- I think that this is as it has always been. We constantly fight each other, constantly taking care of the other.

-You've got to stop this nonsense, Darkwill. -said LeBlanc in a friendly tone.- This will get us nowhere, the lack of magic will kill Runeterra. They can't leave. You can't leave.

-We can. -answered Darkwill, realizing that she had never known why he was doing all of this.

If she kept calling him Elliot it was for a reason, and she was right. The man that now ruled over him was not Darkwill, the  _Ziraeth_ , but Elliot, the one man in love that would do anything to get his loved one back from the afterlife. And there he was, doing the impossible.

-And we will.

...

 

When the last trees of the Kumungu Jungle fell to the will of the Noxian might, the army discovered even bigger trees; the Plague jungles, home to the feared and unknown, laid in front of them. Untouched, unreached by so many men before, the jungles inspired more than fear on the soldiers. But that why generals are there.

-Can you see them, men of Valoran? -shouted Darius.- Those monsters that hide in the jungles are here to ruin our hearths. We have feared them, we had cried their victims and we have avoided them as long as we could; but this is not a day like that.

The immense army that was in front of him was dumbfounded, following his every word and feeling them in their hearts. Most Noxians had lost a relative or a friend in the incident of the arena, and the death of King Jarvan Lightshield the Fourth was still an open wound in the Demacian soldiers' hearts.

-Today we say no to their reign of fear! -continued Darius.- Today we deny them their existence the very same way that they've tried to do with us before. You, heroes of Valoran, are the men that will bring a new dawn to the continent. Blinded by pride and honor, we were nothing but mere traitors when we killed ourselves. Noxus, Demacia, Ionia... that was the mistake. We didn't recognize the real enemy. But now we've learnt, heroes.

The drums sounded stronger with every phrase while most men acclaimed the Noxian general. His words were bringing light to the hearts of men that had been struggling through the jungle for days without really knowing what they were facing. Only now they recognized their enemies; dragons, spirits and beasts that were now leaving their hideouts in the Plague Jungles.

-We shall fight today until the life of those beasts has come to an end. For our children, for our wives and friends. For those who are not here with us today and, why not, for ourselves. For Valoran!

...

 

The armies were screaming, with the soldier's weapons raised and drums roaring through what was left of the Kumungu Jungle. Their general, a Noxian, talked to what looked like the Demacian king and left towards the Jungle, running towards Lucian.

But there was nothing that Yasuo could have done; the Demacian gunslinger was too far to hear him shout. Also, other things caught his attention way more than the Noxian general marching enraged.

A soldier able to manipulate the wind. When she raised her sword he felt it.

That must had been the one to kill his master. The one to blame for his whole life; his brother's death, the massacres that he had been forced into and the slashed through the throats of those who had one been his friends.

He had to get her.

...

 

-Where are those two men? The Noxian and the pale one? Where did they go?-angrily asked Garen.

-They marched with Darius, brother. - said Lux.-They are there, with the hooded man and the blonde woman.

She knew that it was still difficult for him to accept her. She had been missing for years, and now a completely different woman appeared and was called his sister. Yet it was the truth, and hiding that fact, like Malcolm had proposed, would have left her broken-hearted. She had to try to reach him.

-They shouldn't leave without permission.-complained the Demacian king. -They will pay for this lack of obedience once this war is over.

-They are just following their leader, just like these men are here waiting for your words. -said Lux.- Don't think of the two that stood loyal to their lords, think of the whole army that, even though years ago they were fighting against you, now accept Garen, the Demacian king as their leader. Think of the immense quantity of people who were their friends you might have killed. Yet they are here, eager to follow you into battle.

Her brother was nervous, but her words had calmed him down a little bit. She had always been there for relieving Garen's worries; how he had gone through the latest years of life without her, she knew not. But now she was there to calm his rage down. But peace was never long.

-I, Yasuo, the unforgiven, call for a duel with that Noxian swordsman. -said someone who looked like an Ionian warrior.- For the honor of my name.

Lux could see how Garen was falling into rage again, and she wouldn't be able to stop him in time.


	32. Thrashed and Scattered

Had he asked a duel? That Ionian warrior wanted to fight Lux? What had he thought she was? He was trying to fight with the Demacian king's sister, yet he acted as if it was a normal thing.

-For honor? -asked Garen, clearly outraged.

-I've lived my life in exile for a crime that she committed. I have no doubt of it. -answered the swordsman.

Garen didn't understand it, but it made no sense for him. Okay, maybe the Noxian woman whose body was now Lux's had done some horrible things in the past. But there's no reason for Lux to carry the blame or the shame of it. Garen looked at Lux, only to see a horrifying look in her face; she looked scared. The Ionian swordsman scared her.

With a swift move, Garen slashed the Ionian swordsman called Yasuo. But there was nothing but wind around him when he first tried to cut through him.

He could feel the moving of a sweeping blade around him, yet he felt no hits or heard any slash at all. He continued the long slash for bringing him the so deserved judgement, and only then he heard him fall.

-I die redeemed, you vicious king. -said the swordsman right before spitting a handful of blood onto his own chest.

Then Garen fell onto his knees, bleeding through his armor. " _He was faster than I expected."_  thought Garen. If not for Lux's scream he may have not raised again for long.

-KILL THEM! -shouted Garen.- MARCH AND BRING JUSTICE TO VALORAN!

...

 

-Come here you demon! -shouted Lucian while shooting continuously.- You won't escape me this time!

They were getting deeper and deeper into the jungle. He saw creatures that looked even more dangerous than those that he had hunted with Senna. But there was no turning back now. He was so close to end her torment. He was so close to end Thresh's life.

-I will gun you down like the degenerate you are! -screamed Lucian again, while chasing the horrid creature that he had been looking for for years.

He suddenly realized that the ground looked darker than usual. The plants were looking greyish, and the soil reminded him more of Zaun's streets than a jungle. He could see how the Chain Warden was being surrounded by an infinity of small pieces of metal while moving faster with each step. But that would not hold Lucian back.

-I'll have her back monster! No matter how many tricks you throw at me! -roared Lucian, his heart torn apart by anger.- Turn back and fight!

Only then he realized what had happened. Thresh's laugh was not the only one floating in the air; a deeper, heavier sound was also drowning the rest of the jungle's noises. And then he felt the hit of the mace and fell to the ground.

A second hit instantly followed, hitting him way harder than the one before. " _This is not Thresh._ " realized the Demacian gunslinger. He woke up in time to see who the monster that aided such a demon was, and luckily reacted in time to avoid a third hit that would have devastated him. Instead of his body being torn, the jungle itself suffered the rage of the iron revenant. Hundreds of trees, already as grey as steel beams, were torn apart with that one hit.

-I'm Thresh's number one, you little boy.-said the metallic monster with a deep voice.- You're not annoying him anymore.

And then he disappeared into thin air.

-They will not annoy us anymore. -said Thresh. -It's just you and me now; you, me and the Noxian general that's charging towards here.

...

This was her first time fighting since she lost Valor. She was fighting side by side with those who had killed him. But she needed to leave those feelings aside; if Garen told them to march, they had to, and as used as she was to being the Vanguard, she marched onwards, running as fast as she could, like she hadn't done for quite a long time.

It took her long to realize that her enemies were not only the big creatures that hid into the Jungle; dark spheres suddenly formed into air, killing warriors that didn't know what they were facing. But Quinn remembered the battles at Ionia. Syndra was predictable; she was not a problem for her.

She advanced towards the man that her king had called Darkwill with quick feet, realizing when a sphere was being formed and dashing out of that place instantly. But she hadn't expected the meteors that fell from the sky. Suddenly, as if time and space had bent over in a place, a small, closed cell would be formed around a group of soldiers, who were later killed by falling meteorites.

But Quinn was not part of those groups of soldiers. She had always been part of the scouting squads; she had always been part of the vanguard that led the armies into the enemies. She knew how to adapt and face the unexpected.

...

 

-COME HERE BASTARD! -roared Darius.

His axe was cutting through the rotten trees that had now lost the metal they had contained a while ago. The falling wood was annoying but his bloody rage would not be stopped by such a foolish thing. He wanted to kill the monster that had killed his brother, he wanted to hunt down that creature and make it suffer as long as he could.

There was some Demacian man there too, but he didn't recall his face. Maybe he was not part of the army; when they arrived, a small group was already in the jungles' borders; maybe he was part of them. But Darius didn't really care.

He saw them run, the Demacian gunslinger constantly shooting at Thresh, who was occupying Xin Zhao's body. " _That's why he was so interested in him, that's why he took him._ " realized Darius. But, again, that didn't matter to the hand of Noxus. He wanted nothing but blood. He wanted revenge.

He chased them, trying to apprehend them, but they always escaped his reach. That was until Thresh fucked up; maybe he wasn't used to Xin Zhao's body. Using his chain, he had tried to tie Lucian down, but he had ended up chaining them together. As they were unable to move, Darius slowed down his pace. He wanted to enjoy it.

...

 

The vanguard had already stopped some of the most annoying monsters that were defending the jungle; it was their time now to take down the beasts that had been eagerly waiting for them inside of it.

The creatures she was slowly killing were nothing but brutes. Beasts that charged at her only to hurt themselves when being stopped by a tree, animals with such a lack of brain that condemning them into a tree or wall looked like a joke. Vayne saw Shyvana fighting down a bunch of Noxian soldiers, tearing them apart with her bare hands. Not having to face an old friend made her somewhat happy, but the situation was still weird. She was finishing off an enormous haloceros when she realized that her feet were entangled into the ground.

-These jungles are not yours, human. -said a strange being, half plant, half woman.- The Plague jungles don't welcome those who have only looked upon us as a resource.

Without hesitation, Vayne shouted a heavy volt to her, knocking her backwards and winning enough time to get rid of the plants that tied her feet. This was not the enemy she expected. This was a challenge.

...

 

-Don't worry, brother.-said Lux, whose face had been cut in half.- It's all right. Everything's going to be okay.

But Garen knew it would not be okay. He had failed again. He had failed to protect his king. He had failed to protect his sister. He had failed to protect his people. Time and time again.

-I need her.- said a dark voice.

When Garen turned to see who had talked, he found no one around him. Not even Lux.

...

 

Darius started to raise his axe. The Noxian guillotine would chop in half their whole bodies together; why trying to aim, when it's easier to cut them both in half. He could see the fear in the Demacian gunslinger's face. He could feel the rage inside Thresh; it could be felt in his laugh, which drowned every other sound in the jungle.

He wanted that noise to stop, so once he reached them, his axe went down swiftly. The sound of cracking bones and pain-born screams delighted him.

But Thresh's laugh had not stopped.


	33. A Call to Arms

She could notice the warm embrace of blood running through her face; Vayne was, after such a long time, struggling against an enemy. The plant-woman that called herself Zyra had proven to be a worthy opponent, but she needed to get to Darkwill. " _Those are my orders at least."_  thought Vayne.

With no hesitation, she tumbled out of Zyra's vision range and hid for a little while. Vayne could hear her footsteps through the jungle; it didn't matter how weak the noise was, Vayne's hearing sense was always able to detect it.

Once she realized that the monster was in range of her crossbow, Shauna swapped her weapons.

-Impure fools. -said Vayne before shooting the first silver bolt.

...

 

She didn't see it coming. It stuck onto her shoulder, and the forest cried a little when Zyra's blood was spilt onto the ground.

While she was still trying to understand what was happening, a second bolt hit her, right in the middle of the chest, knocking her back and sticking her onto the closest tree.

Only then she noticed.

The Demacian night hunter was tumbling through the jungle, always hiding in the countless shadows that covered the place, plying with light and the lack of it for being nearly invisible. But she was the forest; a human wouldn't stop her.

When Zyra heard a third shot from Shauna's crossbow, her frail human body had already been abandoned.

...

 

He could still hear the echoes of the madman's laughter.

-Come back, you sick bastard! -roared Darius to the trees, without knowing where to look at.- Come and let me chop off your very existence in two!

Then, Darius' axe fell onto Lucian and Xin Zhao's body once again. With less difficulty than before, Darius unstuck the axe from the corpses and let it fall again onto them. Blood was everywhere, and the corpses, now unrecognizable, had been tore down to countless pieces.

-This is what will be left of you once I find you, you coward!

...

 

Luckily, she had not found a single Demacian soldier while fighting. " _Not yet._ " thought Shyvana.

All the corpses that laid around her were clearly Noxian soldiers, and the few that fearfully tried to escape from her obviously were too. She could feel it in their weapons, whose edges were not designed to kill, but to hurt and cleave instead. Countless wounds would have covered her if not for the dragon that she had learnt to fully embrace after so long.

With a quick movement of her huge jaw Shyvana caught the last remaining Noxian fighting her. She could feel his fear and the pain that he was going through while tearing his flesh with her very own teeth. " _My old friends would find it disgusting_." she thought, while witnessing a shooting star. " _Is that the trailblazer that Taric talked about?"_  Shyvana asked herself.

But she was given no more time to think about it; a crossbow hit her on the right shoulder and pierced through the thick dragonscales, hurting her for the first time in a long time.

-Is it you, Quinn? -asked Shyvana to the Demacian soldier that was on top of her, pointing to Shyvana's head.- I'm so glad it's you, Quinn.

There are a lot of reasons that explain why this battle was not considered a victory for the Demacian historians and, even though a little one, this event is clearly one of them.

...

 

He had seen everything but Yasuo's slashes. How the Ionian outcast had walked towards the whole army and faced the king, how he had called for a duel and, finally, how he fell onto the ground. Ezreal couldn't let him die there.

In the blink of an eye, Ezreal teleported besides Yasuo, grabbed him and teleported back into Tahm Kench. The Demacian King was unable to understand what was going on or why his victim had disappeared, but he was too busy looking for his sister to care about such a triviality.

-You can help him, right? -asked Ezreal to Tahm Kench, clearly worried.

-You're asking the wrong questions, dear boy... -answered the River King with a smile that didn't give any hope to Ezreal.

-Why won't you help him? -said Ezreal, starting to realize with what kind of creature he had been dealing with.

-Again, that is not the question we are looking for. -answered Tahm Kench.

Ezreal wanted to reply, but Tahm Kench was nowhere to be seen.

…

 

Suddenly, the ground started shaking. Still, only Malcolm was paying some attention to that detail. Aatrox's bloodlust was directing his eyes towards the ongoing battle, while Darkwill and LeBlanc were still talking.

-Here she is, Darkwill. -announced Malcolm, doing a step forward.

-Are you sure she is the one? -asked the  _Ziraeth_ \- I won't tolerate any mistakes.

-And we will tolerate no complains. -said Aatrox, whose blade's colour was changing constantly from a light red to a bloody purple.

The winged Darkin couldn't let his eyes off the battlefield; if no one had noticed it was because they were too busy minding their own business. Darkwill grabbed Lux's head and looked deep into her eyes. LeBlanc looked at the whole process, disgusted, while the  _Ziraeth_  was taking control of the blond girl with a piece of his mind.

-You know you needn't do it this way, Elliot. -said LeBlanc.

-Don't you dare repeat that name again! -shouted Darkwill, clearly angry.- I'll have you killed if you do!

...

 

The  _Ziraeths_  had always been that way. They were supposed to know everything, about everything. Their ways of thinking was always the right one, and their words had to obviously be blindly followed.

But the Darkins were tired of that. Once their plan was over, the  _Ziraeths_ would have disappeared, and they would be able to rule the world of men. War, torture, pain, agony... glory; that was the world Aatrox had always been looking for.

-Do you now know how to destroy the lantern? -asked Malcolm to Darkwill.

-Combining the Final Spark and the Wind Slash should be enough. -answered calmly while diving into Lux's mind.

-Do you really need to do it that way? -asked LeBlanc, clearly nervous.

-Kind of. -answered Darkwill with a monotonous voice.- It's easier this way.

-She won't get through it.

-That's none of my concern.

-It should be.

-I am the one who choses if it is or not. -said Darkwill, ending the argument.- And I choose this way. Whatever happens to her after our job is done is none of my concern.

-We will leave, Darkwill. -said Malcolm, while Thresh gave a lantern to Darkwill.

...

 

Once the Darkins were not with them, LeBlanc started the argument again.

-You needn't control only her body, Elliot. -said LeBlanc.

-I told you not to say that name again, Anyssa. -answered Darkwill, still somewhat absent because of what he was doing with Lux. -And I need it. I want my mind to do its own thing, whatever she thinks while I choose how her body acts is an unnecessary detail.

-She might die before you finish your job. -replied LeBlanc, trying to convince him of going fully into Lux's mind. If he did that she'd be able to stop him, since his concentration would be somewhere else. 

But Darkwill's ability to separate his mind in two different pieces amazed her. LeBlanc had never seen someone do something that way, and there were several reasons she hadn't. 

The first one was that it was horribly painful for the one being controlled; the fact of seeing your body act independently, ignoring your orders, always devastated the minds of even the strongest warriors.

The second one was that if this thought got to the main vessel the one controlling the two bodies would suffer the very same pain, abruptly breaking the link and mixing up both existences. And being two different beings while physically existing as one was not something to rejoice over.

...

 **  
** -We will hurt him, Aalcox. -said Malcolm.

-I know. -answered the Darkin.- He'll suffer as he has never done before.

-Oh yes… we will. –whispered Malcolm.

-Do you really want to do this? -asked Aalcox.

The voice that answered the Darkin's question was not Malcolm's.


	34. The Final Spark

-How does it feel bastard? -asked a familiar voice.

That voice turned Darius mad. That could not be him. He had died at Thresh's hands. His brother had died long ago, he could not be talking now.

-Answer, bastard. -he heard again while a fist hit his back.

Darius turned around, trying to grasp the hand that had hit him, but when he turned he saw Malcolm, the Noxian man that was supposed to die at his hands; the Noxian hero that had been depicted as a villain for the sole purpose of calming the rage of the Noxian people. The fool that had let go of Thresh, the one to blame for Draven's death.

Without saying a word, Darius whirled his axe, trying to cut through Malcolm's chest. But he vanished, leaving only a light splash of blood that tainted his armor with more blood.

-Why are you doing this? -asked Darius.

...

 

Darkwill was preparing Thresh's lantern while he used a part of his mind to control Lux, all while giving orders to the monstrous army he had gathered.

-Faster Syndra. -said Darkwill with the monotonous voice he had been using since he had taken control of Lux.- Lux will need another platform.

While their own piece of ground kept rising, LeBlanc saw how another chunk was being torn from the woods. That piece, smaller than the one she and Darkwill occupied, was rising faster, as if it tried to reach the height that theirs now was at. During the movement, a few rotten trees were falling back into the forest, silently splintering once they reached the ground.

-Why are you doing this Elliot? -asked LeBlanc.- Where's the point of leaving?

-You are asking the wrong questions. -answered Darkwill.- And using the wrong name.

-What is your plan then, Darkwill? -said LeBlanc in a mocking tone, specially exaggerating the  _Ziraeth_ 's name. - Are you going to blind us all using this girls' lights and the lantern's glow?

-She'll be back, LeBlanc. -confessed Darkwill, clearly annoyed. Then his tone turned dead serious again.- But that's not something I should have told you.

...

 

Quinn was still crying when she realized what was happening; the ground was rising.

Syndra, the Ionian woman that had brought down countless legions on her own, was rising two huge rocks that seemed like part of the forest's soil; two huge empty craters nearby confirmed her hypothesis.

On top of one, Darkwill was doing something to the Noxian girl that had marched with Darius and Garen, leading the army while a blonde girl argued with him. The other piece was empty, slowly and relentlessly approaching the first one.

-Shauna! -shouted Quinn, with a heavy grief that made every word difficult for her.- Shauna! There's one more thing we have to do!

...

 

-You did enjoy spitting at me, didn't you? -said Malcolm while slashing Darius' face with his dagger. That would definitely leave a decent scar.- I should kill you and send you with that foolish brother of yours.

-Shut up! -shouted Darius, whirling his axe again.- Come here if you dare! A shame of a man is what you are! -another move of his axe that hit nothing but trees.-I'll tear you down to pieces!

-You won't, and I am not going to kill you anyways. -said Malcolm, appearing beside Darius and grabbing him by the shoulder.- I want you to suffer as long as you can.

Another dagger slashed through Darius, now through his shoulder and his right arm suddenly was still, hanging there, lifeless. Darius tried to him hit with his head, but there was no way he could hit Malcolm; he was too blinded by rage. And Malcolm did take profit of that.

-You will live a long life of shame and torment Darius. -said Malcolm.- You'll be blamed for what will happen today; the mass extermination of thousands of men. It was under your ruling that Noxus suffered, it was under your ruling the Noxus bent to Demacia's will and marched together as one, and it’s under your damned ruling that Noxus lost.

...

 

He had to hit the lantern right at the top for opening it. He had seen Thresh do it before, but the kind of energy needed was one that he could not have access to; at least until he knew of this girl.

The combination of the Demacian girl's light cannon and the Riven's wind slash converged into a kind of missile that could tear down the frontiers between worlds, just like Thresh did with his bare hands. It was overcomplicated, but it was worth the agony he was going through. Nothing was difficult enough if the result was having Senna back.

-You know you shouldn't do this, Elliot.-said LeBlanc.- She died, and she was a great person, but that's it. The dead should not come back, especially those that Thresh took.

-Shut up. -said Darkwill.

-No! No, I won't. -I know you're hurt, Elliot. I am going through what you went through right now!

It couldn't be possible; had LeBlanc truly fallen in love? If that was true, then this blonde appearance of her was her definitive existence. That meant that, like him, she was way weaker now. " _But like me, she'll eventually grow stronger than ever..._ " thought Darkwill. There was nothing that taught as fast as pain and grief did, and when LeBlanc lost her loved one she would definitely be able to take control of the whole world. He had to stop it.

-You don't understand it, LeBlanc. -said Darkwill.- But you certainly would if I gave you the chance.

-Then give it to me.

-I just... can't.

Lux was already on the second platform that Syndra had brought; the final spark was ready. Darkwill tossed Thresh's lantern into the air and pushed LeBlanc off the platform; in matter of seconds, she would be dead.


	35. The Tear of the Goddess

Quinn saw Syndra and pointed her out to Shauna. She had explained it all to her before heading towards the Ionian woman that had brought legions down with nothing but her bare hands and a power that escaped the limits of human condition. Yes, Syndra was powerful, but only when she knew what was coming up to her. The countless legions that had vanished had done a horrible mistake; facing her straight up. They would not do that mistake.

...

 

Quinn vaulted onto Syndra, who tried to maintain the equilibrium while holding the huge platforms that she was rising for Darkwill. "I need to hold on for a while..." thought Syndra. "He's so close to bringing him back. I'll be safe when he's back." thought before trying to hit Quinn with a sphere.

...

 

That was when she had to go in; Shauna Vayne tumbled at Syndra's side and shot a heavy silver bolt that pushed her towards the closest tree, stucking her into it. But the Ionian woman didn't stop; even though they were more unstable, the huge pieces of rock were still hanging up in the air.

...

 

She was cold. Really cold.

Syndra remembered Darkwill's words. "I feel your pain." he had said. Syndra had seen it in Darkwill's eyes; he had also lost a loved one. That one, the only one. He had also lost the one and only person that had understood what he was and accepted it. And, like Syndra, he would do whatever it took for having such a person back.

But she was cold. Her eyes were starting to surrender to the weight of her eye lids and the world was becoming darker. She wanted to hold on, to give Darkwill a chance of having Senna back. And then, when Zed was back, he would save her. He would bring her back from these cold shadows.

She only had to hold on, and wait for him.

...

 

-Stop it, Vayne! -shouted Quinn.

-Why? -asked Shauna, clearly nervous.- That man is still up there, Lux is about to blow this whole damned place up, and you want me to stop doing the one thing that can save us.

-There's no point on that... -said Quinn.- She's already dead.

...

 

LeBlanc was feeling horribly. Why had she done such a thing? Why had she wasted her life this way? She could have enjoyed a lifetime with Ezreal, the only man that had dared give his life for her, but no; she had to stop Darkwill. She had to get into whatever he was doing and stop it, because Darkwill could never do good.

But that wasn't the worst part of it; what terrified LeBlanc the most was another feeling that haunted her heart; doubt. What if Darkwill wasn't doing anything wrong? What if it was right to fight for those you loved, no matter what was at stake?

First, she cried. Only then she fell onto Tahm Kench's open mouth.

...

 

Darkwill fell onto the ground. He didn't know why everything had suddenly shaken so abruptly, and he wasn't given much time to think about it. The ground shook again, and with that he lost control of Lux's mind.

"It doesn't matter." he thought. In only a matter of seconds, Senna would be back, and nothing else would matter then.

...

 

Lux had no time to stop it.

When she regained consciousness the Final Spark had already been fired. Accompanied by Riven's Wind Slash, the projectile advanced like an unstoppable force towards the lantern that Thresh had given to Darkwill. She saw the woman that Darkwill had called LeBlanc in the projectile's path until the moment when she should have been hit.

Seconds after, she realized that the one that had been hit was Ezreal.

...

 

There are times when people are not given time to choose. Times when no one is given the chance to calmly face a situation and think what they can do to solve it.

It is during those times that the commonfolk step aside. "I can't save her." said a doctor, far away from the battle at the Plague Jungles, struggling to keep his best friend's daughter alive, trying to help her survive the hit of a stray Avarosan arrow. "I can't defend my homeland." thought an old, old man, far away in time and space, while trying to look for a way of saving Urtistan. "I can't conquer his heart." thought a maven, far away, in a beautiful watchtower that had been built ages ago in the very middle of Bandle City.

It is during these times that heroes appear. When no one dares to try, they show up. That is the only difference between the commonfolk and the few heroes that have stumbled upon our world; that they decided to show up. They decided to act. They decided to show that they did have the willpower to do something.

Two words are enough to turn a common person into a hero: I can.


	36. Concussive Blows

Suddenly, the ground started shaking. Still, only Malcolm was paying some attention to that detail. Aatrox's bloodlust was directing his eyes towards the ongoing battle, while Darkwill and LeBlanc were still talking.

\- It's all over now, LeBlanc. -said Tahm Kench.- Or should I say... Anyssa?

She didn't dare answer. She was too weak, yet she hadn't been hurt.

No, that was not true. She had been hurt, but in such a fashion that she had never known before. She had lost something she had valued nearly as much as her own life. She had witnessed the one existence that she had considered truly beautiful vanish in front of her.

...

 

She was the one to blame. If she had done everything right he would surely be alive now. If she had not left so suddenly, if she had dedicated some words to him before departing, only then, maybe the things would have worked out differently. But she hadn't.

Without knowing it, without meaning it in any way, she had killed the one and only man she had loved. Tears were streaming down her face, her heart pounding as fast as it could, her cries being drowned by coughs and her life being drained by grief.

Lux's existence was slowly vanishing from Riven's body, disappearing, turned into nothing but a void in the Noxian woman's mind.

...

 

Riven pitied the girl, but she was somewhat happy of being back in control of herself. She was clumsy, nearly unable to walk. It was needless to say that she was unable of correctly wielding her blade.

After some seconds of staring at the Piltovian man's corpse, Riven realized that she pitied him. She had never known him, but she blamed the remains of Lux's mind in her body for the mixed feelings.

She tried to wake up, but she couldn't; she was exhausted.

She was about to faint, as close as a person can be to surrendering to sleep, when she heard his voice.

Revenge was the only thing that could get such a dead woman back on her feet.

...

 

-Now that I think of it, you're lacking some scars, don't you? -mockingly asked Darkwill.

-Get lost into the voids, Malcolm. -spitted Darius.

-You could lose a finger or two... -said Malcolm while holding Darius' right hand.

He couldn't move. It didn't matter how hard he tried; there was something holding him, something that he could not see. Something that, even if familiar, was unknown to him.

-You could take a hand too, Malcolm.-added a weird face that had suddenly emerged from Darius' cheek.-Or both, no matter what I'm quite sure that you would not have enough with it.

-You're right in that, Aalcox. -replied Darkwill.-An arm shall suffice for now.

Aalcox; after listening that name he lost all hope that was left. He tried to fight the darkin's powers with a rage that until that day had been unknown to Runeterra, but it wasn't enough.

He was about to give up when she saw a woman walking towards them. Her blade was getting bigger and bigger while she approached; he could feel the air current shaking the ground he was laying upon, making his cloak dance with the wind.

The look on the face Darius was seeing was not the one of the hybrid monster that Malcolm had created years ago; Riven was back.

And she was thirsty; only the sweetest of revenges would bring peace back to her heart.

...

 

Riven was tired, but it didn't matter. She had been waiting for years, looking, confined in a cell built into her own body, at how that demon strangled all her hopes while he used all the Noxian people Riven had once valued. He had got them all killed; the few that left his grasp alive had died in Zaun's Mental Institute years ago during the final battle with Piltover, when the whole city was razed by Piltovian soldiers and Zaun's madmen themselves.

She dashed once and noticed that Malcolm now knew she was there, but she didn't care; she rushed the distance that divided them and slashed with all her fury, attempting to cut him in two.


	37. Tempered Fates

-He will come, Sona. I have that certainty. -calmly said Taric while his eyes dove deep into the infinity that extended in front of them.

Sona didn't know how the tower worked; they were supposed to have left Runeterra once and for all, yet there laid it in its whole extension. Again and again, when it looked like land should end and the seas would drown it all, a different Runeterra started to lay upon them. "Time is strange. Everything related to time is." Taric had said years ago.

...

 

-And this tower is not an exception; look at the clocks.- he continued.-Look at the automated calendars.

But she didn't dare; there was something in the hundreds of thousands of clocks that covered the walls of the room that made her feel uneasy. The calendars, cylinders tall as the fiercest Noxian warrior and as thick as wide were a Xer'Sai's tunnels, were constantly spinning. But that was not the strangest thing; they all spinned, yet they did it at different speeds, just like the clocks ticked.

When she stopped to think about it the noise would become unbearable, but the truth was that when you were focused into the beautiful and unexplainable thing that laid upon her eyes you'd lose track of your current location; there were things that looked way more interesting than a constant ticking.

-Have you looked at the clocks? Have you noticed the calendars? -Taric asked, breaking the systematical ticking noise of the clocks. -They mark different dates and times.

Sona didn't understand why it mattered; anyone could use a calendar and modify its date. But she didn't dare express the tiniest bit of what she thought, because she knew that there had to be something more to it.

-They are all different, I know it. But... -Taric's right hand dived into the pocket of the jacket he had been given by the Yordles after their arrival and took something out of it.-The weird thing, Sona, is that my pocket watch, my grandfather's watch, matches all of them. It is always in time with the one clock I'm staring at.

...

 

-I told you he would come.-said Taric, with his finger pointing at the giant glass window that was in front of them.- There's his trail.

...

 

It was dark and silent.

He was not sure if that was the right way to describe it, because it wasn't just dark and silent. He could feel nothing. No grass being folded at the weight of his steps, no weapon at his hands. He didn't even really know if he had hands at all, and he couldn't even tell if he was walking or if he was simply thinking about walking.

It was truly dark, and the silence was the only companion that Malcolm had in that bottle.

...

 

Riven's slash hit nothing but the ground.

Hundreds of little yellow beings, which shone as if they were made of gold, dashed away from her, scared by the hit. Darius didn't know what they were, but he somewhat liked the looks of those weird things. At least until they started to surround him; he would have fought against them, but he was powerless. Also, he didn't really care about himself anymore.

...

 

Shauna saw it all; how the wandering caretaker, character thought to belong to nothing but fairy tales, came down from the sky. With him descended thousands of little golden beings that, if she remembered correctly, her grandmother had called Meeps.

Shauna Vayne sat beside the stone Quinn was lying at.

-Can you see them? -she asked.

-I do.

-Do you think that they took care of Valor as much as they are taking caring of Shyvana now?

No answer came out of Vayne, because she had already fallen asleep to the hug of countless meeps; Quinn shortly followed her.


End file.
